


Unplanned Parenthood

by SupahYellowSentai



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Awesome Bobby Singer, Domestic Fluff, Drunk John, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Protective Siblings, Sibling Love, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, still screws up John, well meaning John
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-05
Updated: 2018-01-30
Packaged: 2019-01-09 05:55:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 46,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12270264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SupahYellowSentai/pseuds/SupahYellowSentai
Summary: After a hunt gone wrong, Bobby and John discuss the matter of the boys. Who would they be better with? Who would they be safer with? Who would love them more? John or Bobby? (Non-abusive John because this isn't that kind of story)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is very fluffy, again. Everything is written out once again, and given my life isn't chaotic at the time, I will update weekly.
> 
> This is a sort of continuation on Reality Check. It's more that every now and again I would type with the mentality that it's connected, but only in sense of universe and a few references. So there is no need to go and speed through Reality Check before picking up on this one. Unless you want to. ;D

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A first hunt for Sam goes awry.

Feeling had left every limb of his body leaving him sluggish and unwilling to further fight his fate. It was so cold. He had thought at the beginning he would be strong enough, that he could endure but he knew now that he was spent. How long had it been? Hours, Days? Not that he could tell. All he knew now was the despairing cold, and the sweet promise of sleep.

_“Sam!”_

A voice sounded very far away, and he attempted to place the face the voice belonged to. All his sluggish mind could conjure up was love-filled vibrant eyes. A shock of hair came next framing a familiar face that drew out line by line in his head. Then a name. _Dean._

The voice called again and Sam tried to respond but just like his limbs his lips barely moved. All that came out was a weak groan. Maybe this was just wishful thinking? Dean wasn’t actually here. This was just his mind trying to give the boy what he wanted. His big brother.

Dean had always been there. Dean helped him with his homework, and Dean made sure he ate; even if he had to steal. Dean comforted him when he was sick or scared. Soon all his thoughts were the name Dean repeated almost like a mantra.

He even felt the familiar warm, calloused hands on his face.

_“Sam! Hey, it’s okay. I’m here.”_

Sam peeked his eyes opened after a long struggle. It was Dean. He was there. Everything was okay. He could let go now.

**< <<>>>**

It had been a long two hours. The plant was huge and when Sam simply disappeared Dean hadn’t known where to start.

Despite this being Sam’s first hunt, his father had the family split up. This place is too big. It would be better if we split into two and searched. So the teams were made. Sam and Dean checking the perimeter, and John and his huge ego starting on the main office building. Dean wasn’t quite down with the plan. Already this spirit had dropped two bodies in one week, and before that six in a period of two months. Each body had been found in horrible manners. Their death had been torturous and slow. But John was adamant. It was a simple salt and burn. Find the body and burn it. The end.

Even though Sam was amazing with guns, blades, and of course his large nerd brain Dean couldn’t help but think he wasn’t quite ready yet. Hunting just wasn’t going out there and killing the monster. There was so much that could go wrong from stupidly tripping and scraping your knee, to bleeding out and dying; and instinct had a large way to go to avoid the worst of the problems. Something Sam didn’t have quite yet.

So, when Sam went MIA after being behind Dean just a split second ago Dean felt scared. Ignoring the chilled rain Dean rushed around checking the surround area, all the while screaming his brother’s name till he was hoarse. When it was clear Sam was nowhere near, Dean picked up the phone and dialed his father.

“Plan hasn’t changed.” His father barked after hearing his son tell him what had happened. _“Find the body and burn it.”_

The boy’s mind went directly to the eight dead bodies and the different types of torture they endured before death. His mind went particularly to the girl who had been strung up. The rope had been positioned strategically so as to ensure she didn’t die immediately. Coroner said she died after being strung up for thirty minutes. “Are you kidding me?!” Dean clenched his hand tighter around the rifle. “Sam is out there with the spirit right now.”

_“Exactly. No ghost, no danger. So we’re taking out the threat and finding your brother.”_

Dean got the thought process. It made sense; but it also pissed him off too. Everything about what his father said pissed him off. Sam was in danger. His son was in danger. Maybe he was just trying to remain calm and not think of the possibilities, but to label Sam in this instance as Dean’s brother and not his own son was crap. “No, you find the body and burn it. I’m finding my brother.” He hung up when his father was mid way growling out his name.

It took an hour and a half. It took 90 heart-stopping minutes, for him to finally locate his brother. Steve- Stan, whatever this stupid spirits name was had put his little brother inside a cooler with the cold cranked up the furthest it could go. 

Already damp from the rain outside it had turned his little brother into a mess. A mess that had seemed to stop shivering; not good at all. Dean placed two fingers on his brother’s cold wrist and felt his heart still as he waited for a single pump from Sam’s. It took a while but finally Dean felt the pulse of blood and he was able to breathe. “Sam! Hey Sam!” He gently patted at Sam’s face and heard his brother moan. “Sam! Hey it’s okay. I’m here.” 

Sam’s eyelids fluttered up gazing sleepily at his brother. Dean wanted to start crying at the sight of his hazel eyes. They didn’t hold the usual intelligence that Dean was used to but Dean would take what he could get. Upon seeing his brother Sam’s body went slack and his eyes shut again.

“No! No, Sammy. I need you to stay awake. Come on Runt, open your eyes.” This time his brother didn’t come around. He still had a pulse, though sluggish, and his breath puffed out slow and steady. He needed to get out of the cooler and warm, now. Dean had his brother in his arms and out of the cooler quickly. He didn’t want to risk getting caught inside it as well. Then there would be no helping him. Then Dean had Sam out of his damp hoodie and t-shirt and shrugged off his own jacket. 

When Sam was zipped up in Dean’s warmer jacket, Dean pulled out his phone again. There were two calls. No doubt his father getting after him for his disobedience. Dean scooped up his brother and held him close the gun close by in case their friend decided to stop by and check on his human Popsicle. Using his other hand he dialed his father’s number again and didn’t even have to wait for it to ring.

 _“Damn it, Dean! I called you twice. You pick up when I call.”_ His father was beyond mad. Good soldiers don’t disobey orders.

“I found him.” Dean tucked his brother’s head under his chin, dislodging a few chips of ice that had formed in his brother’s damp hair. “I found Sam.” Dean wasn’t sure why he needed to repeat the phrase, but he did. “Bastard stuck him in the cooler. He’s not shivering anymore.”

John let out a string of curses. _“I’ve found the body already. He’s been burned. Which building are you in?”_

“I’ve got him. Just meet me at the car.” Dean was already scooping up his brother in his arms. He wasn’t going to wait for his father to find them. His mind ran through the amount of blankets they had in the trunk. “If you beat me there then start up the heat in Baby, and pull out any blankets we have in the back.” This time it was his father who hung up first hopefully on a mad run back to the Impala. 

Dean sat there for a second feeling his baby brother slowly puff out breath onto his neck. It came too close. He never wanted to feel like this ever again.

**< <<>>>**

He hadn’t bothered listening to his father bake up a lie for the doctors, then later the clueless police. All Dean’s mind slipped too was the memory of the nurses swarming over his brother, strapping on the breathing apparatus, and rushing the still form through the double doors and out of Dean’s sight. He didn’t want to think about it, but everything that could happen ran through his head. He thought about the organs that could have stopped working. He thought about the doctor screwing up in an emergency surgery and his baby brother bleeding out. He thought about what would have happened if he’d followed his father’s orders. What state would his brother have been in then? Would he be alive?

His hand without much thought slipped into his pocket and the next second had Bobby’s number dialed onto the glowing screen. Dean hesitated his thumb over the button that would complete the call. He allowed his eyes to drift over to his father standing with the police his arms crossed, and his face a mask. The button was pressed and Dean found himself standing up and slipping out the doors of the hospital without his father even taking notice. 

It took two rings, but Bobby picked up; grumpy per usual. _“Who is this?”_

Dean inhaled a shaky breath. “Bobby?”

 _“Dean? What’s wrong, boy?”_ Bobby’s voice softened at the broken tone his name had been spoken. He knew the Winchester boys like the back of his hand, and something was defiantly wrong. Especially if he was getting a call this early in the morning.

The story tumbled out. His brother disappearing, his father’s orders being broken, finding his brother, then the hospital. Dean could already hear the sound of a bag being packed and keys jingling in the receiving end of his phone as he spoke.

 _“How is your brother now?”_ Bobby asked when Dean finally finished.

“I don’t know…” Dean’s voice caught at the end and he wiped away moisture in his eyes. “They took him through the doors. I tried to follow- What if Sam is dying? It would be my fault Bobby. I would have killed him. What do I do if he doesn’t make it?”

The background noise stopped on Bobby’s end. _“Ease up boy. None of this is your fault.”_ He cut off Dean’s protest. _"I said, NONE of this is your fault. Your fool daddy never should have split you guys up. Sam never should have gone on this hunt in the first place.”_ Bobby collected himself. _“And he’ll be fine. You and your brother are both too stubborn to die.”_

Dean didn’t say anything.

“Think about it boy. Would your brother ever give up?” Bobby thought back to the last call he’d gotten from John just a few days ago, and catalogued the place. If they had gone to the nearest hospital it would only be an hour drive for him.

“No…” Dean thought back to the stubborn, bull headed kid brother who would butt heads with his rule driven father. If Sam could stand up to his marine father then he would be fine. He wouldn’t go down today. “No, you’re right. He’s too stubborn.”

Bobby was already locking up his home. _“Right, so you need to stay strong too. You both are going to come out of this okay. I don’t have a doubt in my mind.”_ Bobby didn’t bother taking the stairs he simply jumped off the porch and rushed to his truck. _“I think I know where you are, but confirm it with me. What hospital are you boys at?”_

“You don’t have to-”

_“I know I don’t. Where are you boys at?”_

Dean felt a weight lift off his chest. He glanced at the illuminated sign near the door and rattled off the name.

_“Okay, I can be there in an hour.”_

“Thank you, Bobby.”

_“That’s what I’m here for boy.”_

Dean went back in after the call was cut off and sank into the uncomfortable plastic chairs. Time blurred as his stare remained on the double doors his brother had disappeared through. Every time the door would open he’d sit up until he’d realize that they weren’t headed towards him with news on his brother. He watched from the corner of his eye as his father paced the room. In different intervals his dad would leave and return with a coffee, and have his hand slip inside his jacket pocket and come out with his worn flask. Although Dean didn’t need to see the contents of the flask get poured into the coffee. While John wasn’t a violent drunk he did rely too heavily on the alcohol to get past his troubles. 

Both Winchester’s stayed a good distance away from each other. While they had worked well together putting Sam in a cocoon of blankets and steaming up the inside of now Dean’s Baby, the fighting had happened immediately after. John kept his foot heavy on the pedal while he berated Dean with harsh words about following orders, and repeating over and over that he could have been killed while he was running around panicked. Dean who usually just took the words in stride couldn’t. He shot back telling his father he was cold and calloused when on hunts, and that family always should come first. By the time they had reached the hospital John had been finished. He locked himself and his words away, unless someone other than Dean spoke with him of course.

About an hour later Dean had resorted to bouncing his knee worriedly and clutching a rapidly cooling coffee that he was fairly certain an attractive nurse had pressed into his hands somewhere in that time. He only startled when he heard his name being called. At first his eyes darted towards the hospital doors but there was no one there. His name was called again. This time closer and softer, and then a hand landed on his slumped over shoulder.

There standing behind him was Bobby singer, looking haphazardly put together but so wonderful to Dean at the time. The coffee tumbled from Dean’s hand and spilled to the ground as he shot out of his seat and circled Bobby in a hug. 

“God, Bobby. It’s been an hour and I’ve heard nothing.” Trying to keep his emotions in check Dean pressed his face into Bobby’s chest. “I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Hey now. That’s enough panicking from you. I have no doubt Sammy’ll pull through but you gotta believe in him too.” 

“Family of Sam Winchester?”

Dean broke off the hug and turned around quickly at the sight of a petite Hispanic woman wearing a white coat. The sudden movement had the doctor walking towards the pair. 

“Are you Sam Winchester’s father and brother?”

Dean nodded hastily, and John lunged out of his chair and shoved Bobby away. “Sam, my son. Is he okay?”

The doctor looked uncertainly at Bobby. “Is he family as well?”

“My uncle.” Dean bit out before John could have Bobby removed from the situation. “Bobby is my Uncle. Now is Sam okay?”

The doctor continued. “Sam’s doing fine. He’s resting right now. Unfortunately he’s going to be out of it for a little, and require a lot of rest in the days coming. Currently we have on oxygen and warm fluids.”

Dean’s eyes widened. “Can we see him?”

“Right now, we’re setting him up in his room, but I’ll have one of my nurses bring you up when he’s situated.”

The next ten minutes were the longest Dean could recall waiting. The ticking of the clock seemed to echo off the walls almost mocking the boy at how slow time was going. When a man in blue scrubs finally stepped into the room to escort the men to the room Dean was ready to start singing halleluiah. The man stopped at a door on the second floor and gave the three a warning about the machines that would be hooked up to the boy.

And he hadn’t lied.

Sam was a small boy to begin with, but he looked so much smaller amongst the machines they had around him. Dean wordlessly slipped into the chair next to the bed and took his little brother’s hand, careful to avoid ripping out any IV’s. Bobby and John remained outside stopped by the doctor as she further explained Sam’s state. While Dean was concerned about whatever the doctor was saying he wasn’t about to leave Sam. He’d get the information whenever they stepped in.

“Hey, Sammy.” Dean kept a hold on his brother’s hand and using his other to sweep damp bangs away from his face. “You’re going to be fine. Just next time I’m going to attach a rope to your waist and drag you along behind me. Or we could get one of those stupid kid leashes. I’ll make sure the animal is a dog.” His smile didn’t last. “God, I’m sorry runt. I should have never taken my eyes off of you.” Dean choked back a very unmanly cry and wiped at suspicious moisture collecting in his eyes. “Have I ever told you about Hailey-” He paused. “I think her last name was Johnson. Oh but man was she flexible.” Dean went regaling an unconscious Sam about one of his horribly failed dates when the door opened and shut gently. Dean glanced over and allowed the story to die down as he met Bobby’s concerned gaze. 

“You doing okay, boy?” The older man didn’t miss Dean gaze drift past him noting the absence of his father.  
Dean’s hand continued to card softly through Sam’s hair, but he kept his eyes on Bobby. “He’s alive. Can’t ask for more. What did the doctor say?”

“I’m not going to sugar coat it, son. Sam suffered a seizure and nearly stopped breathing while they were starting to warm him up.” He cupped Dean’s shoulder when the boy shut his eyes tightly. “He’ll be fine though. She doesn’t foresee any complications. He’ll make a full recovery.”

“A seizure? I should have found him faster Bobby. He had been missing two hours. It took me two hours to find him while he was in a cooler.” Dean pressed his forehead into his brother’s still shoulder. “I failed him Bobby.”

“Now that is enough.” Bobby growled. “You did not fail your brother. You saved Sam. Even after your dad gave you a direct order. If you hadn’t gone to look for Sam when you did-” Bobby cut off at the consequence of the action. “You care so much for him, and he loves you back just as much.”

Dean smiled warmly his expression hidden. “I know. Sometimes it’s not like he’s my brother but-” 

Dean stopped at the final word but Bobby knew exactly where he was going. Sam was almost his son. The one who had consistently been to every stupid elementary school play, who had seen the boy cross stages to receive dumb little awards like perfect attendance, or read winning essays, was Dean. The one who had tended to a fevered, sick, vomiting  
Sam, and hold back his long hair, was Dean. The one who always made sure that there was enough food on the younger boy’s plate, even if it meant he went hungry, was Dean. Dean for all intents and purposes was Sam’s father. John may have been the gene donor, but Dean was the one who cared and loved Sam like nothing else.

It broke the man’s heart to hear the sixteen year old sound so serious. It wasn’t supposed to be on the boy to be the parent of his younger brother. John should have been there more for his boys. Dean should be out hanging with friends. Hell, he’d settle for Dean sneaking away and going to a party with alcohol. Trouble that a normal teenager ran into. 

Then there was the constant traveling and hunting. The way the boys lives were going now their regular homes were cockroach infested motel and hospital rooms. He’d defiantly have to have a word with John later when everything had calmed, and undoubtedly the Winchester’s were resting up at Casa de Bobby.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John has a misunderstanding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Geeze. Am I irritated at myself.  
> I have a habit of typing called dialogue with making it italicized. Dumb me knew that the format went out the window when you post on this site. I had to center and bold myself. Of course I never thought about the italicized words. So now, I have to go back and correct that. I swear if I hadn't come out with my head naturally connected, I'd go to work without it.

“Deeeaan! Stop it you jerk.”  
There was a loud thump from upstairs and Bobby jerked a little dotting his decently clean shirt with meat and sauce.

“Oh ease up you little bitch.” 

There was another thump.

The spoon in the veteran hunter’s hand was put down a little forcefully and splattered perfectly good chili on his otherwise clean counter, but he’d certainly had enough of the bickering. It was usually in good fun. When Sam told Dean to piss off, and Dean referred to Sam as a little bitch it wasn’t mean spirited. The boys were having fun, and everything was intended with love. Boys would be boys and all that. But unfortunately even with the clear understanding that they were playfully bickering, he had had enough.

He set his burners down to low and wiped his hand on a hand towel nearby before loudly stomping up the stairs. “Boys!” At the word the loud thumping and the fighting stopped, but it didn’t stop Bobby from twisting the knob to the boy’s room and open it up rather forcefully. Inside Dean stood equipped with a halo and wings as he smiled brightly at his self-proclaimed Uncle. Sam on the other hand laid in bed his arms crossed, bottom lip quivering in a pout, while he stared at the ceiling. 

“I told you to watch your brother, Dean.” Bobby stated getting the picture. “Not antagonize him.”

“I wasn’t-” Dean started but got cut off quickly by Bobby’s sharp gaze.

“Now I know you feel a little cooped up. If you’d rather, you could always go outside.” Bobby made a point of pointing out the window where a heavy storm brewed for the third consecutive day. Bobby was certain he would have a river around his home if the rain kept coming the way it did.

“He was trying to put a crown on me.” Sam wasn’t looking at anyone, his face was still flush with the fever that had caused complications in the hospital and had nearly stopped the heart of all three of the men. While it had gone down considerably Bobby and Dean were still mother henning the hell out of the kid. “He made a crown from the box of cereal, and wrote Queen Bitch on it.”

“Dean!” Bobby held out his hand to request the offending item. Despite the string of excuses that stuttered out of the older boys mouth the crown made from a box of lucky charms had been deposited in Bobby’s hand. “Now, I’m fairly certain you can find some other way of entertaining yourself, Dean. Would you like another book, Sam?”

Sam nodded while Dean scowled. “Come on Bobby. You have no TV, no computer, I can’t even head down to the garage in this rain.” His expression held while he watched Sam accept the book with Latin delicately scrawled and decorated in gold down to the boy. Sam considered the title before opening to the first page. “I know Doogie Howser can sit around and consume that book shortly, but I require something more entertaining.”

“You’re right, boy. You could always help me in the kitchen.”

Dean made a face. “I’m not a cook, Bobby.”

“He really isn’t.” Sam looked up from the book casually.

“Look runt, shut it.” Dean turned and poked a finger threateningly at the boy, but Sam didn’t seem to start quivering in his boots. He ducked his head back in the book after giving Dean a quick eye roll. Keeping his eyes on Sam, Dean mulled in thought. “You still have those skin mags?”

“What?” Bobby paused. “You can’t mean those decades’ old magazines I have in the basement?!”

Dean headed towards the door only stopping to pat Bobby on the shoulder warmly before exiting the room. “Basement. Thanks Bobby.”

Bobby didn’t bother stopping him. “Don’t stick the pages together boy. Some of those are worth something.”

Dean’s voice was slightly muffled and echoed from the stairway. “Yeah, yeah.”

“I’m finishing up dinner then.” Having the Winchesters over always made his life interesting, in good ways and bad. This was just one of those situations where he’d try and not remember the complete details. “I don’t think you’re quite up for my chili quite yet, so I’m going to put some soup on for you.” Bobby bent down and felt the boy’s forehead pleased that he seemed a bit cooler than he’d originally been that afternoon. “Did you want to stay upstairs? I can always help you down, and you can rest on the couch.”

Tired of being contained in the room Sam shut the book and swaddled the blanket around his shoulders. “I wanna join you guys downstairs.”

Bobby immediately had the boy up and shuffling out of the room. As they went down the stairs carefully one at a time, Bobby smirked, amused by the overly large socks that consumed the small boy’s feet. Once Sam was lying on the couch covered comfortably in the blanket, and the book resting on his chest, Bobby returned to his meal. Dean sometime later came up a stack of magazines tucked under his arm. When he spotted Sam lying on the couch he took the spot just beneath his brother on the ground pointing out interesting pictures every now and again. He only stopped and hunched over the pages hiding them from Sam when Bobby snapped at him from the kitchen.

Their father chose to return after dinner had been eaten and the bowl of chili reserved for him had gotten cold, and he was very clearly drunk. Bobby wasn’t as furious about the fact that the man was drunk so much as the fact that Sam and Dean were hardly fazed by it. Dean had assisted his father the best he could as he stumbled into the kitchen. From what the old man saw John wasn’t belligerent towards either boy, but in his drunken state, Dean was posing not only as a father to his brother but to his own father as well.

Bobby took John’s other arm from Dean and nodded towards Sam. “I got this boy.” When Dean glanced up at Bobby hesitation clear in his eyes, Bobby insisted firmer. “You go take care of Sam. No point in you parenting both of them tonight.”

He didn’t release his father immediately. It took the boy a few good confused blinks before he unclenched his hands from around his father. He simply stepped back and watched detached as Bobby lead John to a wooden chair in the kitchen and forced water in front of the hunter.

“I have him. You get Sam upstairs and prepped for bed.” Bobby looked up from nuking the chili. “I’ll make sure yer fool dad gets some food and water in him before he collapses.”

Bobby watched from the corner of his eye while Dean assisted his brother off the couch and up the stairs.

“I know that look, and before we get into that argument again think better. It’s not going to change.” John had watched the older man in this whole process and had seen the anger stirring in his gaze. They’d done this so many times before that he didn’t need a warning. “They are my boys, and I know what’s good for them.”

The microwave beeping was the only thing that broke Bobby’s stare. Once the bowl was in front of the elder Winchester, Bobby dragged out the chair across from John. “I know you care about them John, but you got to look at it from a different angle. You were just out middle of the day, getting drunk.”

“M’ not drunk.” John stated petulantly as he shoveled a hearty spoonful of chili into his mouth.

“Right- not drunk.” Bobby rolled his eyes. 

“’N so what if I am. Did you see me hit them? Did I verbally abuse them?” John waved the spoon scattering drops of the food on the table. Another mess Bobby would have to pick up once all the Winchesters were asleep. 

“No, but-” Bobby collected his thoughts. “You don’t put them first John. No, I heard what you had to say many times.” Bobby held up a hand when John started to fight back. “You do not put your boys first. I think you love them. I think you care about them, but the number one thing that you are focused on is getting revenge on whatever killed Mary.”

“Damn right. She’s dead. It killed her.”

“I know. And I’m sorry, but right now upstairs you have two boys- two young boys who are the product of you and Mary. Don’t they come first? I know you lost a wife. So did I. But you still have two living, breathing gifts from Mary.”

John furrowed his brow. “I take care of them. I love them.”

“When was Sam’s first steps?” Bobby blurted. “What was Sam’s first word? Who took care of Dean when there was a thunder storm?”

“Thunder storm?” John frowned in confusion.

“Yes thunder storm, John. The thing that petrified your boy when he was younger. Every time he was dropped off here and it was storming, he’d be terrified.”

John’s confused glance turned to disbelief. “Dean’s not afraid of thuder…”

“Not anymore. He had to get over it.”

“So wha’s the problem?”

“John, the problem is that you don’t know when Sam’s first steps were. You don’t know that Sam’s first word was dee, and that Dean was afraid of thunder. You don’t know that every time Sam brings home report cards he always shows you how good he’s done in Latin. Did you know that Sam has also started to teach himself Spanish? And Dean. He’s taken to throwing knives, can bullseye them most of the time. I also recently got him a bow and arrow since the last time he was here he expressed interest in learning.” Bobby kept his eyes firmly on Johns.

John didn’t say anything.

“And this last hunt. Jesus, John! Dean had to find his brother in a cooler. You saw the complications the boy had in the hospital.”

John was finished. Bobby always harped on him. “If he had followed the orders I’d given him-”

“Your youngest would be dead, just like your wife. I understand from a hunter’s point of view your logic. Kill the monster first then lick your wounds afterwards, but damn it John, your twelve year old boy on his first hunt was taken by some homicidal spirit, and you thought it was smart to just continue on hunting.”

“I am a hunter. I need logic and calm on these cases.”

“And your boys need a father, not a hunter with his calm and logic.”

John’s eyes narrowed. “What are you saying?”

“What I’m saying is, maybe they shouldn’t go with you. Maybe they should stay here.” Bobby let the comment seep into John’s fuzzy head. “They’d still be your boys, and you always have the right to come and see them. But they’d go to school in the same place, and have the same bed to come home to. Dean and Sam could make friends. Hell, Dean for once could have a girlfriend.”

“But my boys, they’d be-” 

Bobby cut him off. “They would be fine John. Your boys would be fine. When was the last time Sam or Dean asked you for anything besides money before you walked out and hunted? Dean takes damn good care of his brother. He doesn’t need you, and anyways you don’t seem to need them. The only thing that you seem to focus on his your drive for revenge, and without the kids tagging along you could move whenever you wanted and follow every lead without having to worry about them packing, or setting them up in the next town.”

John gave Bobby a dirty look and Bobby simply shrugged. “This is me being a hunter. Logical, and calm.”

“They’d get in your way.” John fought.

“I wouldn’t mind. I’ve been watching out for the boys since they were little tykes.”

“You still have to help other hunters. You don’t have the time.”

“Sam, and Dean, are both brilliant. I can look up things twice as fast if they help.”

“Your food bill will go up.”

“I have a business on the side. I make enough money without having to play pool or gamble to get my money.”

John scowled. This conversation had never gone this far. Sure Bobby nagged him but in the end Bobby always respected John’s right as a parent. “They’re MY boys.”

“And they can stay your boys. They just stay here and have a normal life in a semi-normal home. Like I said, if you were to pass through, you would always have a room.” Bobby put a fatherly hand on the man’s shoulder. “John I’m thinking about them. This isn’t to persecute you.”

“The hell it isn’t.” John growled he stood up from his chair suddenly knocking it over. “You’ve been fighting with me about my boys for as long as I can remember. I’m a good dad. I love my boys. I don’t see why you feel the need to- to- save them.”

“John-” Bobby stopped walking towards the belligerent man when John swung up a fist.

“Sam and Dean would tell me if they need anything, and I’d get them what they need the best I can.” John stumbled his face red with rage.

Bobby sighed. “What if Sam wanted you to come to a parent teacher night? Or if Sam wanted to stay in town a little longer to turn in a project or take test.” He watched as John’s face fell. “What if Dean didn’t want to join you on a hunt so he could stay and protect his brother?”

“Sam doesn’t ask me to go to those dumb teacher parent things, and he knows that he can always pick up his schooling in the next town. I don’t have time to call and tell the monster to stop killing people so my son can finish school. And Dean always joins me on hunts, he never fights back.”

“John just listen to me. Please.”

“NO! I am done! I am heading upstairs and sleeping. I don’t need you and the boys certainly don’t need you! We are leaving in the morning whether you like it or not.”

**< <<>>>**

Bobby was jerked awake at the rumble of an engine. He glanced at the clock and groaned at the time. “What the hell is going on?” Bobby sat up and rushed towards the window and jerked back the sun faded curtains his wife had insisted upon years ago.

“Balls!” The curse was harsh and breathless as Bobby didn’t mind what little he wore and rushed out of the room and down the stairs in a stumbling run. Bobby wasn’t anywhere close to stopping the large truck. He’d barely opened the door when the cars tail lights made the squealing turn out of the lot. He kept staring at the dissipating cloud of dust John had left behind spitting out a string of curses.

Was John alone? He turned his head up to the top of the stairs once he got a grasp on the situation. He thundered back up the stairs two at a time. He hoped that the boys hadn’t been taken. Ignoring the fight they’d had last night Bobby hoped to hell that John hadn’t packed and rushed his still recovering boy up, and peeled away with the two. Bobby’s hand landed on the knob to the boy’s room just as Dean pulled it open his hair sleep tousled and his eyes wide.

“Uncle Bobby? What’s going on why did I hear dad’s truck? Did dad leave?” Dean stood back as Bobby pushed his way into the room glancing at a still snoring Sam, bundled in his blankets. Dean’s tone changed to slight disgust. “Why are you wearing Santa boxers?”

“Did John come tell you anything?” Bobby said breathlessly. He only regarded his manner of nakedness for a second turning his attention back to the boys. “At any point in the night did John say anything?!”

Dean’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Yeah, about one or two he came in and- well, he apologized.”

“Did he say for what?” Bobby demanded.

“No, he just said sorry, then apologized for waking us up and that we should go back to sleep.” Dean expanded. He ducked down under the bed and yanked out his shirt from yesterday. “Why Bobby? What’s going on? Did dad leave?”

Bobby ran a hand through his thinning hair. “He’s probably just acting out. He’ll be back, I mean you know your father right?”

“Bobby?” Dean’s tone was almost condemning.

“Look Dean, I’m sure everything is fine. Why don’t you check up on Sam? Make sure his fever has gone down some.” Bobby slipped out of the room and closed it behind him.  
It was a low blow to bring up Sam, but he had to check their father’s room. Without the boys. His heart dropped into his stomach as he wandered towards the guest bedroom just next to the boy’s room. The one John occupied whenever the Winchesters came to visit- or recover. He pulled opened the door and wasn’t too surprised to find the man’s belongings gone. He was surprised however to find an old spiral notebook and a box sitting on the mattress of the messily made bed. Bobby’s heart dropped further when he read the on the half destroyed spiral. 

“Balls!” Bobby cursed. Another unsteady hand ran through his thinning hair. “Why the hell did you have to go and do this you idjit. This was not how I wanted to do it. This is not what I wanted.” 

He scooped up the note and the box and left John’s room depositing the box on his own bed. Having only stayed in the room upstairs to remain close to the sick boy, Bobby jerked on his only available cloths (worn yesterday) and closed the door firmly behind him. Last thing he needed was the ever inquisitive Dean to find that damn note.

Downstairs in the kitchen Bobby put his private phone to his ear and dialed John’s current number.

 _“If this is an emergency then leave a message.”_ John’s deep baritone voice came over the line after the third ring.

Bobby near lost it. “You damn fool! This is not what I meant. If you had stayed and we could have calmly discussed this I could have explained myself a little more to your sober self. You cannot do this to them. Just come back and we can talk. Please John.” Bobby slammed the phone back down and inhaled deeply. “Crap, how do I explain this?”

“How do you explain what Bobby?” 

Bobby didn’t need to turn around to know Dean was standing in the entrance to his kitchen, seething.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean find out what happened with John.

1987, a few days before Father’s Day, Dean had been excited. He’d scrimped and saved for a present and even a cheap box of cake mix. Bobby even offered to help celebrate the day if he could manage to get his dad over to the lot for the day. Even Sammy, the blabber mouth, was keeping all of their plans silent. After many failed attempts Dean finally found a potential hunt in the area and suggested once again they could stay at Bobby’s while there. Step one finished Dean celebrated his success. Until John rather than stay through the night snuck out while the boys slept, and was gone before Dean and Sam could celebrate the day.

Dean had been mad. He wasn’t sure if it was himself for expecting his dad to stay in one place, or if it was at his dad for leaving. The lame _#1 Dad_ mug he’d gotten was passed off to Bobby that day rather than his own father.

As Bobby watched Dean’s mix of expressions they were much like that failed Father’s Day years ago. Dean wasn’t happy. At first his face was pure rage as he demanded to know where his father had gone and why his father had left in the first place. However later in the explanation his anger evaporated into something unreadable. Bobby was sure that it was more defeat than anything else. 

Bobby slid the kid a coffee and joined Dean at the scuffed up table. He watched as Dean fingered the _#1_ Dad mug he’d given Bobby those years ago. “Look, boy. I shouldn’t have said anything. I should have waited until yer daddy was thinking right before I started talking.”

“No,” Dean was glancing down at table, seeming to catalogue all the scratches that Sam and he’d placed there. “It would be good for Sam to have something a bit steadier. I’ve always been good at moving from place to place, but Sammy- Sammy hates it. But did dad really say that he’d never come back?”

“I really don’t want you to read it, but I have the note upstairs. He says he’s a terrible dad, and that to give you a better future-”

“He’s going to run away.” Dean finished a little breathlessly. “Yeah, that’s dad…”

Bobby opened and shut his mouth a few times trying to find the right words. “I wasn’t trying to accomplish this, boy. All I wanted to instill in your old man’s head was that you two could settle here, and while he hunted you two would have a bed to come home to. Maybe you n’ Sam could make some friends in town, and actually keep them. But I didn’t do it right.” He scrubbed a hand across his shadow. “I don’t think your daddy is going to stay away though. In his own way he does love the two of you, and I can’t imagine he’d just never show up again.”

If Dean heard the last part his face didn’t register it. “What do I tell Sam? Sammy’s gonna ask where dad is. How do I tell him-”

“We won’t.” Bobby sighed. “Unless you feel the kid needs to know.” Sure Bobby would take responsibility for the boys. He originally planned to, but ultimately the Sam expert was Dean. Bobby knew better than to do anything without Dean’s approval.

“I don’t know.” Dean finally brought the cup up and took a sip and gagged at the lack of sugar or cream. He hadn’t gotten quite comfortable with coffee black yet. “I don’t know that Sam needs to know, but he would get mad if I don’t tell him.” He swirled the liquid thoughtfully. “Just hold off for now. Sam doesn’t need to know that Dad is AWOL. I’ll tell him when I’m ready.”

Bobby put a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “I don’t think he’ll stay away. It might take a while, but your daddy will come to his senses and come back. Hell maybe he’ll drive for a while and turn around once he got his head screw back on right.” 

“Yeah, he’ll be back.” Dean finally said, a little too quietly. He glanced up at second floor and thought back to his little brother. “I’m going to check up on Sam. He might be a little freaked out. I left the room in a bit of a panic.”

“Check up on the boy.” Bobby nodded. “I can start whipping up some pancakes if you want to help him join us downstairs.” 

“That would be great, Uncle Bobby.”

Bobby waited until the boy had turned around and headed towards the stairs until he lifted up his hat and rubbed at his hair. It wasn’t fair. Everything these boys went through wasn’t fair. Sam and Dean cared so much for each other. Dean sacrificed so much for his little brother, and Sam offered his brother so much love and admiration. If anyone deserved a happy life it was definitely these two boys.

****

<<<>>>

****

****  


Something was wrong. Sam was fully aware. Sure when he’d first been told his dad had run off to go on a hunt, it wasn’t too farfetched. Something in Dean’s expression however informed Sam that there was more to the story. He let it go though. While Bobby and Dean talked and joked at the breakfast table and Sam nibbled on his lone pancake, it wasn’t hard to tell they were keeping up a façade.

Dean didn’t mention dad again after that, and it was only a few days later when Sam was finally walking around by himself that he finally gathered the courage to ask where his dad had gone to hunt.

“You know dad runt.” Dean didn’t need long to come up with the answer, and Sam could sense a hint of truth behind it. “He didn’t exactly tell us where he went.” The topic was changed smoothly afterwards.

The following day when Dean was off buying groceries with Baby, Sam had gone downstairs to ask Bobby if he knew where one of the books in his organized mess had been left. When he was prepared to call out to the man Sam paused after hearing Bobby’s voice speak worriedly. No one was in there with him. Sam knew he must be on the phone. Sam crept towards the kitchen and leaned up against a wall close enough to hear, but far enough that he wouldn’t be seen.

“Look I know!” There was an irritated pause. “Yes Rufus I know. If he doesn’t want to be found he is damn near impossible to find, but I need to discuss things with him. I need to clarify what I actually meant.” Bobby paused again as his friend spoke through the other line. “No I don’t want you to kidnap the guy and bring him back. Look. Just send out through our group that if they spot John then give me a call. If they can talk to John in anyway then just have them try and convince him to come back.” Bobby huffed. “No, I don’t expect you to make all the calls you damn idjit, but it would help if you gave some kind of assistance.”

Sam bit his lip the remainder of the conversation muting as his mind swirled. Then he was right. Dad hadn’t just gone on a hunt. He had left gone. As in for good. Sam wasn’t sure how he felt. Some part of him didn’t mind. If he had to be honest John wasn’t quite his dad. He couldn’t remember a time, save one or two, when John had gone beyond kind and actually been Dad. However he had honed his skills, done well in school, and sports (to a limit) in a vain attempt to make the man proud and pull the father out of him. For some reason each and every time Sam showed off his success and John didn’t pay any mind, it was always painful. He knew how John would respond, but he still always hoped that it would be different that time around.

Sam bit at his lip and fought back tears. What if John had been disappointed in him? What if when the ghost got the drop on him he failed his family? He hadn’t thought of it before. Dean and Bobby would constantly remind the boy since the incident that during the first hunt something always went wrong. Dean had said to him that on his first hunt he had tripped on a root and twisted his ankle. At the time John and Bobby had to help him back to the car. But he didn’t get kidnapped. In fact he had made the final shot to kill the thing.

Sam’s breath hitched as he pushed himself up. Did dad hate him? That had to be the only reason. Dean always made him proud. Sam was the one who wasn’t up to par. 

“Sam?” Sam glanced up and saw Bobby poke his head around the corner and catch him propped up against the wall. “You okay?”

Tears welled up. “Was it cuz I-?” His shaky voice cut off.

Bobby reached out to comfort Sam, but the boy jerked away and bounced into another wall.

“Whoa. Calm down, Sam.” Bobby stopped moving, his hands raised to show no harm. “What’s wrong?”

“Is it my fault?” 

“Is what your-” Bobby paused and gave a sharp curse. “I really am mucking all of this up aren’t I?” He scrubbed a hand across his cheek. “Look boy, I don’t know what you heard, but this isn’t your fault. None of it is. Let me make you some hot chocolate and- HEY!”

Sam’s took in a sharp inhale and spun around rushing off in the direction of the back door. Bobby called him to stop, but Sam kept going. He was out the back door and taking off into the maze of cars. 

****

<<<>>>

****

****  


“Sure! Nobody help Dean get the groceries inside or anything!” Dean kicked the door closed behind him and headed towards the kitchen. “I mean I certainly must have grown additional arms to in the short time I was gone!”

Dean dumped the bags on the counter and listened for anything. Except he heard nothing. His hand went to the gun gifted to him by his father. Something was wrong. “Sammy! Uncle Bobby!” Gun out and cocked Dean paced slowly into the living room ears perked for any sound. “Sammy?!”

Nothing seemed out of place. Bobby’s usual mess was where it had been and Dean couldn’t see any damage that might have been caused in a scuffle. Maybe Dean was overreacting. Maybe Bobby took Sam out to the garage, and showed him some of the cars he was working on. Maybe they just went for a walk outside. Sam was feeling cooped up inside the house. He could have requested a walk, and rather than let the boy go alone Bobby went with him.

Yeah. That’s all it was. Bobby and Sam were walking. They would be back in a little.

The front door slammed open and Dean spun, gun aimed towards the door. He lowered the gun when he saw Bobby standing breathless in the doorway. His heart dropped at the panicked expression on the man’s face.

“Bobby? What’s wrong? Where’s Sam?”

“I think he overheard me discussing your daddy with Rufus on the phone. He apologized and ran off into the lot somewhere.” Bobby finally got out. “I’ve been looking for about 45 minutes, and he’s not coming out.”

“Crap!” Dean flicked on the safety and tucked the gun away. His mind moved quickly trying to process. Why did the kid apologize? Unless- Dean’s heart dropped further down. “He blames himself.”

“I’m sorry boy. I’m making a mess of everything.” Bobby’s tone was self condemning. “I should have-”

Dean stopped him. “It’s not your fault. I should have explained this sooner. The important thing is to find him.” Dean thought back to every hide and seek game they played when they were younger. He thought back to ever car they ever pretended they were racing in. His mind drifted to the 1960 Cadillac shell that Bobby had on his lot. The very car Sam and Dean were in when he had informed his brother about the details of his mother’s death. “Do you still have that 1960 Cadillac on the lot?”

Confusion stretched across the man’s face as he thought back to the cars on his lot. “I can’t remember every single one but I don’t ever recall one of those leaving the lot.”

That was all Dean needed to hear. He took off towards the back door, Bobby hot on his heels. Dean allowed his feet to carry him through the lot as he scanned the stacked cars looking for specific landmarks that he’d been around for years. The beige VW van sitting on its side was the only clue that he had gone the wrong way. Dean stopped and shut his eyes creating a map in his head. Sam and he had run around that damn lot for so long he knew it like the back of his hand. He configured the VW van in his map and thought. Spinning and going in the opposite direction he made a left. 

“If I’m correct. Then the Cadillac should be-” Dean glanced around before making a right at another intersection. The sun abused shell came into view and Dean took off running towards it. “Right there! Sam!” 

The popped up hood blocked any visual inside the car so Dean’s heart didn’t stop pounding until he was at the side of the vehicle glancing in the rear seat. Sam was curled up in the torn leather interior. Dean didn’t bother opening the door. He slid into the vehicle through its opened window and landed uncomfortably on an exposed spring. He had Sam in his arms though ignoring the small ache. 

Sam tried to squirm away but Dean pressed the boy to his chest. Finally Sam broke down fresh tears rolling down his face. Dean glanced back at Bobby and nodded confirming Sam’s safety before Bobby stepped to the front of the car out of sight. 

“Hey, why did you run off runt?” Dean gave Sam a comforting squeeze when Sam’s arms finally locked around his brother. “You nearly gave Bobby and me a heart attack.”

“M’Sorry.” Sam sniffled into Dean’s shirt. “I’s all my fault. If I was better-”

“Dad leaving was not your fault.” Dean insisted firmly. He noticed the chill on Sam’s skin. Dean pushed Sam back long enough to shrug out of his leather jacket, another present from his father, and slid it into Sam’s arms with some resistance. When Sam was zipped up Dean crushed Sam back to his chest. 

Sam shook his head adamantly. “No it is. I failed. You said that things go wrong on hunts. Especially the first but, I let it get me. I failed you both, and now dad is disappointed and ran away. It’s all my fault Dean. I shoulda-”

“Sammy, stop.” Dean pushed Sam back and when the boy refused to meet his eye palmed Sam’s chin and pulled his head up. He waited until Sam’s watery hazel eyes focused on him. “Dad was drunk, and Bobby suggested that we could stay here with him. Bobby wanted us to have a home to come to every day, and we could go to the same school and make friends we wouldn’t have to leave.”

Sam’s eyes widened at the concept.

“That sounds fantastic, doesn’t it runt?” Dean smoothed back hair that was sticking to Sam’s tear stained cheek. “No more motel rooms. No new town every week.”

Sam nodded.

“Only, Dad didn’t hear Bobby correctly. Bobby was offering us a home. Bobby wanted us to stay with him while Dad hunted, and when Dad was finished he could come and spend time with us.” Dean wiped at a smudge of dirt on Sam’s cheek. “Dad thought that Bobby was taking us away. Dad thought that Bobby was telling him he was doing a bad job.” Dean refrained from agreeing with his last statement.

“So- So Dad isn’t mad at me?” Sam’s hazel eyes were so full of hope. These were the same damn eyes that would watch John whenever he looked over a report card hastily, and the same eyes that would anticipate a response when handed some dumb invite to some dumb school event. The kid just wanted the man to be proud of him.

“No.” Dean answered easily. He smoothed back another strand of hair that had gotten in front of his eyes. Time for a haircut. “If anything, you survived so long in that cooler, he was proud. I may have been worried, but I was proud too. In the face of danger you held your own.”

“But I couldn’t get the door opened. ‘N I was really scared.” Sam pressed his face back into Dean’s chest. “You and dad aren’t scared of nothin’. You and dad are always saving people.” Sam’s voice lowered. “Saving me…”

Dean shut his eyes and inhaled sharply. “You are brave, Sam. Being brave means that you face your fear. Remember when you came home from school with the black eye and I got really mad. Then you told me-” He jostled Sam gently. “Come on. What did you tell me?”

After a sniffle Sam complied. “They were bullying a kid.”

“And you decided to step in and help. You were in the second grade and defended another kid from a fifth grader who had been held back a year.” Dean rubbed comforting circles on Sam’s back. “How scared were you then.”

“I was very scared.” Sam’s voice was thin.

“And yet, you didn’t back down. He may have given you a black eye, but you were the only person who stood up for that nerd.” 

“Tom wasn’t a nerd.” Sam’s voice held a hint of humor. 

“Not the point. The point is that you were brave then, and you are brave now. Besides it’s in our blood. It’s scientifically proven that we are awesome. Brave is a clear characteristic of awesome.” Dean loosened his arms when he felt Sam sit back.

“You can’t prove that.” Sam wiped at his running nose forgetting he was wearing his brother’s leather.

Dean didn’t mind though. Little brother snot came off. “Can too, runt. Took an entire team of scientists.”

“No it didn’t.” Sam chuckled.

A smile spread on Dean’s face as Sam’s own expression brightened. “Okay, so maybe that’s an exaggeration.” Dean bumped shoulders with Sam. “I’m sorry Dad ran off. I’m sad about it too, but you listen to me. I will never leave you. I will be there for you whenever you need me. And Dad, well he can’t stay away long. He’ll miss your damn puppy dog eyes too much.”

“You think he’ll be back…” Sam stated a little uncertainly.

“Dad may take a while, but he never truly leaves us. Even if it takes him a while, he’s sure to show up again.” Dean kept his smile and ruffled the kid’s hair. “Now, it’s cold outside, and you just got over your fever. Let’s get warmed up inside with some hot chocolate.”

The car creaked in protest as Dean pulled on the handle and shoved his shoulder into the rusted metal. After the second try and with Bobby’s help they had the door open. Dean slid out first and offered Sam assistance as his brother scooted across the seat. Once out Sam started to unzip Deans jacket.

“Hey, no. You keep that on.” Dean put his large hand over Sam’s and zipped it back up. 

“But-”

“But nothing. I just said you barely got over your fever. I would prefer that you were warm.” Dean popped up the collar to conserve the warmth. He tried to slide his hand into Sam’s but Sam sullenly informed his brother he didn’t want to hold hands. Dean grabbed Sam’s cold wrist then and shoved it into the pocket of the jacket. “Then keep them warm.”

Sam huffed but drooped his head and bumped it into Dean’s chest. “Thank you, Dean.”

“Always, runt. Always.” Dean ruffled the kid’s hair again before propelling him towards the home.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean get spoiled (just a little).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Totally took a lazy weekend. Not sorry.

Bobby stuck the last of the books inside the oak bookshelf. It took near forever but with the help of an eager Sam and an annoyed Dean, Bobby’s books were organized. Dean and Bobby had built sturdy bookshelves and wrestled the heavy pieces into the living room. Bobby was amazed when after each book was off the ground and clear from their organized stacks he found the floor. Though the carpet was stained and dusty he stood back and gave a little appreciation to the amount of space that he now had in his home. Hell he even had a damn TV stand. He wasn’t sure how long that had been there.

It had been a long time since the place had been this clean. Of course when Karen had been around the place was damn near spotless. Had he not picked up his mess he would have gotten an earful from the woman. Sometimes he missed her nagging, her cooking, her kisses, and their late evenings to be sure. Bobby’s smile grew as he imaged his wife’s pride at the semi-cleanliness of the room. 

“Hey look Uncle Bobby.”

Bobby spun to glance at Sam who was crouched on the ground scooping up an item. Sam lifted his prize and showed Bobby a small red matchbox car. “I lost this ages ago. Dean took it away from me and hid it.”

“Did not.” Dean crouched down next to Sam and tried to take the toy to get a good look. 

“Did too.” Sam scowled, positioning the toy away from Dean’s grasp. “You were mad because I got the last of the Lucky Charms.”

“Was not.” Dean smacked his brother in the back of the head. “And you have no proof.”

“Dean!” 

“Okay, no fighting.” Bobby threw both boys a warning glance. “Besides I promised some lunch after we finished organizing the living room.”

Dean clapped his hands together at the prospect of food. “Great. What are you making?”

Bobby chuckled and Dean’s excitement died down. “WE are making lunch together. I promised you boys a home, and with it comes some responsibilities on your end.” Dean’s face blanched. “And yes, some of said responsibilities will be chores. We can draw them up later. Now, let’s get to the kitchen.”

Although sullenly done, Dean did as he was told and sliced through the tomato making thin slices. Bobby was impressed by how well the boy was doing. He’d have Dean a chef in no time, or at least cooking his chili. Sam at twelve though still small, had gone through a growth spurt and his limbs were gangly and near useless as the uncoordinated boy knocked one thing after another off the counter. Bobby had set him at the table away from the knives mixing together potatoes, mustard, chopped eggs, celery, dill relish for his mother’s potato salad recipe. Sam at first crinkled his nose at the relish and the concept of the materials mixed but once he had snuck a taste he was pleasantly surprised. 

Bobby split a few leaves from a head of lettuce and waited for both boys to finish their appointed tasks. Dean finished first and poked a finger into the mixture Sam was working on churning and made a pleasant sound. 

“What is this Uncle Bobby?” Dean asked quietly as he poked his finger in for another taste.

“This is potato salad.” Bobby looked over the bowl and nudged Sam’s shoulder. “It looks good and mixed boy. Now Just like Mama Singer used to make it-” He trailed off dramatically and nudged the boy aside. Bobby pulled a few slices from his loaf and stacked a leaf of lettuce, two tomato slices, and two scoops of the salad. He stacked six sandwiches on a plate and didn’t need to prod the boys over to the table. Sam and Dean were already there food in hand. 

Dean took a huge bite. “Man, Mama Singer was amazing!”

“Yeah, she certainly was. I never starved with that woman around.” Bobby scooped up on of his own sandwiches and bit into it remembering his mother. His father’s face ghosted up into his head but he shoved back the memory. “I got a lot of her recipes. She refused to allow me to sit around. I always helped in the kitchen.” 

Sam nodded his approval. “I wanna learn some more.”

“Certainly.” Bobby ruffled the boy’s hair. Sam’s thirst for knowledge seemed to extend to the kitchen as well. “We’ll keep cooking together. My mother and I made a ton of things when I was growing up.”

Unexcited for future cooking, but eager to try the food Dean nodded. After polishing off one of the sandwiches he went back for another. While he missed his father, he couldn’t say that Bobby hadn’t treated them right the last week. Both him and his brother had gotten enough food, comfortable beds. Sure there was still a lack of stimulus, but he hadn’t seen Sam so content in a while. Hell he was settling a little into the lifestyle himself.

He glanced over at Sam and watched as Sammy completed the first and stopped leaning back in his chair staring uncertainly at the stack. Dean frowned though his mind switching to Sam’s small lanky frame and plated another sandwich. Eating still posed a problem at least with the younger Winchester. Dean and Bobby had yet to convince him he could have as much as he wanted. They weren’t scrounging for food anymore. They weren’t on limited income. Even after two weeks Dean had to shovel more food on the boy’s plate to get him to have seconds.

Sam still glanced over at Bobby who rolled his eyes. “As said before boy, there is plenty of food in my home. You can’t eat the whole pantry but you can certainly fill up. Besides, you wouldn’t want to offend Mama Singer now, would ya? She’d be rolling in her grave if she thought you weren’t eating your fill.”

The boy still irritatingly regarded the sandwich a second more before picking it up and taking a bite. Bobby swore he’d have Sam eating his fill soon. Although he’d posed it almost jokingly, he knew his mother, and Karen would disapprove if he allowed either boy to go hungry. He certainly wouldn’t be happy himself at either boy being in any state other than healthy while they stayed under his roof.

Bobby and Dean struck up conversation while Sam chewed through half of the sandwich and placed the second half back on the plate. Dean didn’t get aggravated at the boy though he kept the conversation about engines alive while he reached and took Sam’s uneaten half and finished it up. He knew Sam could eat more, but it had been a small battle won for Sam to even eat that half.

Sam propped up on his knees to reach across the table to reach for the dirty plates, and Bobby put a hand over Sam’s. Dean cut off in the middle of discussing the Impala’s fuel line, seeing Bobby had something to say.

“I’ve got the dishes Sam.” Bobby smiled. “There aren’t that many to do and I need you boys to do me a favor.”

“More chores?” Dean deadpanned with a huff.

“Nope. I need you boys to bring down your duffels and set them on the table. We’re going to sort through your clothes and throw out anything that has any holes.” Bobby stacked the four plates together and headed towards the sink. He was halfway filling the sink when he realized neither boy had moved. “Well-” He gave them a pointed look. “Get your duffels.”

Sam and Dean had their eyes locked, both looked confused. “What are we doing that for Bobby?” Dean finally spoke up for them both.

“Do you really want to wear torn and holey clothing to school?” Bobby squeezed some soap into the water and let the suds curl and grow in the water. When he didn’t get a response from the boys again he turned and this time they were staring at him. “What?”

“You’re not going to-” Dean stopped and collected his scattered thoughts. “You’re going to-”

“-buy you boys some decent clothes…” Bobby notched up an eyebrow. “It’s not like I’m taking you to the damn Gap. Maybe some shops with some decent denim; I’ll even go to the damn Wal-Mart in town and see what they got.” 

They still didn’t get up. “You don’t need to Uncle Bobby.” Sam stuttered. “Our clothes are-”

“Ratty.” Bobby dropped the plates into the sink with a clatter. The boys could read a little irritation on his face. “Sam’s socks are huge. In fact I can see a hole where Sam has enough room to wiggle out his big toe. I imagine they’re hand me downs from you, Dean. Dean you’re currently out growing your shirt, and-!” Bobby made a production of walking back to his table and poking his finger through various holes in the shirt. 

“Okay okay!” Dean shoved away Bobby’s hand.

“I will be buying you boys some new clothes. So why don’t ya idjits go upstairs and git your bags.” Bobby gave them a pointed look. “Now would be nice.”

Dean stood up from the table and scooted back in the chair. “I can get a job and pay you back for everything, besides we won’t require-”

“Oh shut up. If you want to get a job then it’s your own prerogative boy, but there is no way in hell I’m letting you boys pay for these clothes.” Bobby sighed and rubbed the shadow on his face. “Besides, I won’t be buying you princesses’ jewelry and make-up along with it.”

Dean opened and shut his mouth. He turned to look down at Sam and took in the clothes Sam was currently swimming in. 

Sure he held a high level of pride being able to take care of his little brother. Especially being a Winchester. Every bite of food, every shirt Sam ever pulled over his head Dean had been supplying the last year while hustling pool or lying about his age and working at some hole in the wall place. Dean didn’t want anyone else taking care of his little brother.

He also didn’t want Sam to lack important things because of his pride.

“Okay, but I want to help out in the garage.” Dean sighed. “I do want to earn our stay. I’ll even do chores- willingly.”

Bobby instantly understood. Dean’s parental mode was coming out again. “I understand that Sam is your responsibility, but you are also a sixteen year old boy. I want to help. I want to make sure that Sam _and you_ are healthy, and happy. If it makes you feel better, you can help me work on cars. But I don’t mind getting you food, or buying you clothes. I am always here for you both. Now I for one want to end this moment before I start growing lady parts. So upstairs, get your duffels and we’ll sort through what you need and don’t need.”

Apparently they didn’t _need_ a lot of things. Dean only managed to save a few shirts with band logos, and a pair of jeans that didn’t have a ton of holes in them. Sam didn’t get off as lucky. The only thing he had left from his wardrobe were the clothes on his back, and once new clothes had been bought they were to be thrown out too. Bobby had deemed Sam’s ill fitting clothes a joke as he glanced over at pants that had to be rolled up with grass stains and rips at the knees. Sam tried to save a few articles but Bobby was adamant. They were too large, and already being hand me downs (-thrift shop clothes before that) they were in a terrible state.

Following the great battle of the closet the boys experienced something they’d never quite experienced before. Clothes shopping, in an actual reputable place. Sam’s eyes wandered around the shop taking in the new clothes. Bobby was right this wasn’t exactly the Gap, but it was still beyond the price range that John had been willing to go.

Dean easily found his size biting back a protest when Bobby dropped each shirt and pant he tried on and liked. The boy wasn’t too sure how Bobby knew anyways. Dean made every attempt to keep a neutral tone and pass off each article as okay. His excitement must have shown through. 

On the other hand Sam didn’t quite fit as well into the clothes. His legs were too long and to accommodate the length they had to get pants wider at the hips. Rather than preen in the mirror when trying on the clean clothes Sam seemed to wilt, all confidence wavering. Dean tried to insist that he was at an awkward stage and that anything he would try on would fit once he filled out. Once Sam put on more weight and stopped worrying about food he’d grow into those clothes and stop being a skinny little bean pole. He still may be small but his runt little brother had put on some major height. Dean imagined that his brother with the right amount of food and enough years, the small kid would get taller. At most, as tall as his big brother.

Despite the price that made Dean’s jaw drop, Bobby wasn’t done there. Rather than head home Bobby parked at a Wal-Mart and waved at Dean to get a cart. There packets of underwear, socks, and a few decent pairs of shoes were tossed into the cart as well. Dean finally spoke up when they stopped in the beauty section.

“You’ve spent a lot already, what more could we need?” 

Apparently he was continuing this spree to razors, shampoo (lavender scented for Samantha), and soap. Dean was about done. He pointed the cart towards the registers.

“Wait, do you boys need anything for school?” Bobby asked. He ignored their incredulous stares. “I mean paper, pens, notebooks? Anything?”

Both boys adamantly shook their heads. Bobby wasn’t happy but he’d insisted that if they had something that they did need later they would tell him. Once again Dean wasn’t too happy with the price that everything had ended at, but he glanced over at Sam. Ignore that fact that he was getting things. For the first time in a long time Sam was getting nice things. He had to bite back the jealousy that they weren’t coming from him. So long as Sam was happy with what he got, then Dean was happy too.

**< <<>>>**

Dean made an irritated sound in the back of his throat. He slid the plate back over to Sam ignoring the petulant look on the boy’s face. “You didn’t even touch half of the meal and I know you could clear the plate if you wanted to.”

“I’m just not hungry, Dean.” Sam stated sullenly and sat back in the chair. His stomach made a loud rumble immediately after as if to dispute the statement. 

Dean rolled his eyes and nudged the plate closer. “Yeah sure.”

Sam glanced over at Bobby. The man had been called away from the table when one of his phones had rung. Now he was busy keeping someone named Annie in the good graces of the local PD. “Really Dean! I’m good.” A hand slid under the boy’s chin and his head was turned to focus on his big brother again.

“Okay, look here. We’ve already had a few chick-flick moments. I don’t know how many more hugs I can handle, but if I have to play Joyce Brothers* I will.”

Sam jerked up an eye brow and smacked away the hand. “Play Joyce Brothers?”

“Yeah.” Dean crossed his arms. “So what’s wrong? We’ve been here for a little while already. You know we’ve got food, hell, Bobby n’ I have told you enough times.”

Hazel eyes glanced at Dean indignantly and Sam shoved the plate further away from him. “Nothing’s wrong.” When he received an irritated huff, Sam frowned. “I mean it, I’m fine.”

“Okay, look here runt. I want to know what’s going on in your giant noggin. Why won’t you eat? Don’t you want to grow up big and strong like your amazing big bro?” Dean nudged Sam’s shoulder. “You’re underweight and part of that is my fault.” Dean held up a hand when Sam started to open his mouth to protest. “I didn’t make you eat enough when we were by ourselves, and there have been too many times when- when food was sparse. We have food here though. Bobby has enough to get it, and even if he didn’t I’d get a job.”

“What if Dad comes back though.” Sam asked quietly. 

Dean blinked a little confused. “Then dad comes back. What does that have to do with anything?”

“The second Dad snaps his fingers you’ll go back to the road, and I won’t stay here without you. Then we’re right back to where we were. I’m used to this.” Sam nodded to the half eaten food. I’m used to-” Sam stopped. His brother’s face had twisted to a horrified expression. “That’s not what I meant.”

“No, I get it. You’re used to being hungry.”

Sam sighed and reached out to touch Dean’s hand. “I don’t mean that you did a bad job.”

“I know.” Dean stated a little too tamely. Of course it meant he did a bad job. It meant that he failed his little brother. Sam was refusing to eat his fill, because he was scared that it wouldn’t always be like this. Enough food on the plate, and a steady home. And Sam was right, the second dad ordered it would take all Dean had not to jump in the car and hit the road again. “I don’t care if dad comes and puts a gun to my head. We are staying with Uncle Bobby. I like it here. Sure he could get a TV, maybe have some updated skin mags, but I like it here. And I know that you like it here. I see your face when you help him research for other hunters. I saw how happy you were organizing the books back onto actual shelves.” Dean sat back in the chair. “Makes you a nerd by the way.”

Sam stayed quiet this time. Didn’t even get offended by the final statement. Dean didn’t take too long to push the plate back in front of his little brother. Sammy stared at the food before he picked up the fork. He poked at the rice and scowled down at the rapidly cooled food. 

“’S cold.” Sam muttered.

“I’ll warm it up.” 

Both boys glanced up at their uncle. He Bobby had the plate picked up and put the plate inside the microwave. He ignored the speculating looks from the boys knowing they’d both be wondering how much of the conversation he had heard. After hanging up the line he’d heard enough. Hopefully big brother had gotten to little brother and his food would be eaten now. He’d gotten tired of storing unneeded leftovers. 

The microwave dinged and bobby had the door opened and plate in front of Sam. “Now if we’re finished playing therapist. I need Sammy here to finally finish up his meal and we can take everything upstairs. I was thinking we could fix up the other room and one of you could it take over. Let you boys have your own rooms.”  
Both seemed a little excited and confused by the concept. 

“My own room?” Sam forgot about the food up until Dean jostled the plate. He forked up some of the food and took a bite. “I wouldn’t have to hear Dean snoring anymore?”

“Hey! I do not snore!” Dean stated indignantly. “I just remind you that I’m still breathing, so that you don’t freak out.”

“Loudly remind me.” Sam stated with his mouth full. 

“Shuddup. Like you’re any better.” The older boy glanced up at the veteran hunter. “Don’t you use those other rooms for whenever other hunters come through though? Wouldn’t we be taking up space?”

Bobby snorted. “You boys wouldn’t be taking up space. Besides I have three rooms upstairs and a couch that pulls out into a bed down here. It’s not like I have my buddies over for margaritas and we do our hair on a regular basis.” 

“Our own room…” Dean’s voice was hollow. Sure every now and again his father would rent a piece of crap apartment or crumbly house and they would have their own rooms. But for the majority of both boys lives they had either shared a room or, hell, a bed. Dean wasn’t sure he could sleep at night without hearing Sam’s steady breathing.

Sam seemed to share the sentiment. He looked almost nervously at his big brother. “I’m twelve Dean.” He gave his brother a warm smile, the feeling not quite showing in his eyes. “I think we can both stand to spend a little time by ourselves. We don’t always need to spend every second together.”

“If you both don’t want to, you two are certainly welcome to share.” Bobby leaned up against the counter. “I’m not pushing you to do anything.”

“We can talk about it.” Dean said quickly catching Sam’s eyes. “Give us a little time.”

Bobby nodded respecting the older boy’s choice. “Okay then. We’ll save that for a later discussion. Then all I’ll need you boys to do is put away your new cloths. Fair warning, your school will start next week. I gave you some time to play around but now it’s time to get back to learning.”

Dean grunted. “Nerd boy should be excited for that.”

“You too.” Bobby started pulling the afternoons dishes off the drying rack. “I know you have a brain in there. If you would use it in school you could certainly do well. I’m not sure about your mother, but you both got your father’s smarts. Maybe college?”

Dean snorted amused by the concept. “Sure, me in college? I’m more of an action kind of man. Probably get into cars like dad did.”

“If that’s what you want to do, I’m not going to tell you otherwise. I just don’t want you to dismiss the idea. Despite what your father has told you hunting isn’t the end all be all. You can do anything you want to.” Bobby heard Sam’s fork clatter down on the plate and was content to see the plate cleared off. 

Dean looked happy too. He eyed Sam and crouched down asking Sam without words if the kid wanted more. Sam shook his head. Happy to have this battle won Dean ruffled the kid’s hair and scooped up the plate taking it to the sink for him. “Sure, I want to be the best damn prima ballerina to dance on the moon.”

“Well, if you put your heart into it.” Bobby easily responded. “I’ll be proud of you as you twirl your ass off in space.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean start school.

It wasn’t that imposing. Sam and Dean had seen plenty of schools. The building was a little rundown and two floors. To Sam it was the unknown that was scaring him. What kind of people would be there? How accepting would they be?

According to the principal the set up was simple. Extra curricular classes had rooms on the middle level close to the cafeteria. The other half of the school was divided by grade. 

Sixth graders were the first level. Sam, being a seventh grader, would be in the portion of the school lovingly labeled the dungeon, or basement; the level under the first floor with no windows. The eighth graders got the sweet spot up top on the second level. The principal during the walk tried to press the importance of possibly joining band or choir. Sam wasn’t keen on doing either. Last thing he wanted to do was set himself up as a nerd from the get go. 

Principal Sterling had gone over everything in Sam’s file. Something John had put in the box when he left. Mr. Sterling was highly impressed with Sam’s records and to make matters worse had also pressed on the boy the many academic clubs in the school. Once again Sam was attempting normal, not brainiac. He had smiled and nodded all through the process of choosing classes and the short walk through but the second he was in his seat and the man gone he finally released a breath. 

He wasn’t off the hook yet though. Sam felt rather than saw the stares that were being aimed his way. This was the part he hated. The dreaded time when he was the New Kid, and all anyone could think to do was stare and try and piece together his life. He knew what they wanted to know. Who was he? Why was he coming into school this late? Where had he been before? Sam hoped to hell that he would find a friend and the mystery of the New Kid would die down. Internally Sam chanted to himself that this would be the last time he’d be the stranger in school.

In his own class, Dean tapped his foot nervously. Despite his cool exterior as he smirked and winked at potential girls Dean kept thinking back to Sam and how he was faring on day one of permanent-location school. Sam was only twenty minute walk. A two minute drive with a single good light. Luckily when applying for school Bobby had taken into account how close Dean wanted to be to Sam’s school. Memorial Middle School was only two miles up the road from Roosevelt High School. Dean’s mind was going crazy though. Was Sam being teased? Would Sam like his classes? Would he do well in school?

“Mr. Winchester?”

Dean looked up from his desk where he was doodling in the ratty spiral. Ms. Davey had stopped her writing and was now looking at the teen. Dean put the pen down and gave a million dollar smile. “Ms. Davey?”

She was not impressed. “Mr. Winchester, I was wondering if you could tell the class what I just said.”

“You can’t remember?” Dean asked coolly. “I thought the degree that you’ve placed on the wall next to your desk implied you knew what you were teaching.”

And that was how Dean Winchester on day one of his high school career in Roosevelt High School ended up in the principal’s office. It being his first day he got off with a warning, but Dean fully expected to be hated by the teacher afterwards. First period algebra was going to be fun.

Four-o-clock could not come soon enough for him. The second that bell had rung he was out of his seat keys in hand to the Impala. He scowled and cursed his way out of the crowded school parking lot and headed up South Sertoma Avenue to pick up Sam. By then the kid had been waiting an hour since his own classes had ended. 

The only time Dean stopped on his route to Sam was at the light which had inconveniently turned red just as he drove up to it. Memorial Middle School had half of its parking lot full, and when Dean pulled up to the entrance he saw Sam sitting on the bench conversing with a pleasant looking man with a shock of blond hair. A teacher Dean figured. Leave it to Sam to charm an adult already on the first day. 

His hand hovered over the horn ready to alert his nerd brother that he was there, but the engine was apparently enough to alert Sam that Dean had arrived. Sam glanced up and waved acknowledging his brother’s presence. The boy scooped up his bag and motioned a goodbye to the teacher. Sam dropped into the passenger seat of the Impala grateful.

“Hey Dean!”

“Hey runt.” Dean waited until Sam had his door closed and was situated before he was out of park and moving again. “How was day one?”

Sam exhaled harshly. “Oh, you know, awkward new kid stuff.” Sam settled the backpack between his feet. “The principal kept mentioning all the different clubs I could join. He even brought up choir. Even if I could sing, I wouldn’t join it.”

“Yeah, do the world a favor Sammy and just don’t.” Dean smirked focusing on the traffic before turning on to the road. 

“Shut up.” Sam leaned back against the seat. “Like your voice is any better?!”

Dean relaxed for the first time since he had dropped the kid off at school. A real smile crossed his lips. “Think Barry White, just luring in all the ladies.”

“Or dying cats.” Sam scoffed lightly. He received a sharp pinch for the comment. He let out an indignant yelp but only retaliated by sticking out his tongue. “How was your first day then?”

“Same.” Dean shrugged. He wasn’t going to admit that his little brother had been on his mind the entire day. That just invited all kinds of mockery. “Although, there is a good looking brunette who sits in front of me. I’m thinking she might be girlfriend material. I mean she got up to write on the board in my English class and let me just say from the behind she has a lot of potential. I think her name is Kelly, or Katie?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Did you end up at the principal’s office for sexual harassment?” 

“Well not for harassment. Actually maybe it technically was…”

The kid shot up in his seat. “I was kidding! Did you actually go to the office?”

Dean shrugged again. “Teacher asked me a stupid question, I gave her a stupid answer and she took some offense to it. I got away with a warning.”

“You’re supposed to make a good impression on the first day Dean.” Sam shook his head at his brother. “You’re not supposed to piss off your teachers…”

“There are no rules for the first day, Sammy.” Dean smirked. 

“Yeah there is and that’s rule number one. Do not put unwanted attention toward yourself. No principal’s office and no councilor’s office. Last thing dad wants is CPS-” Sam went silent. He cleared his throat. It had been a little, but It still hurt to know that dad had run off. “No unwanted attention.”

If Dean was affected by the comment he didn’t show it. “It was a one time thing. I spoke before I thought. Maybe Ms. Davey hates my guts but I smoozed the rest of the teachers real good. I get decent grades then there shouldn’t be any problems.”

Sam chewed on his lower lip. “Bobby is right though. Despite what you want others to believe you are smart. Before I went to school you’re the one who taught me everything. You even help me with homework.”

“Ah, I don’t want to do the work though.” Dean tightened his hand on the steering wheel. Sure if he tried he could get the material, but he’d always been too focused on Sammy and what he needed. To a certain level he always took care of his dad too, during hunts or after he was passed out drunk. He didn’t know that he could devote himself back to schoolwork even with the load of taking care of his father off his shoulder. “Besides I am way too cool to be a nerd.”

Dean wasn’t sure if Sam sensed the struggle he was dealing with. The kid went quiet for the rest of the ride home, Dean was partially grateful for that. Even if there were brothers there were times when words couldn’t be said. Some things needed to stay internal until they were ready to talk. Dean wasn’t ready.

Bobby was full of questions though, when the boys arrived back from school. Did they like their classes? Did they meet anyone interesting in school? Did they like their teachers? Sam and Dean simply shrugged at each question. Both knew that the first day didn’t mean anything. Just because everything went one way or another on day one didn’t mean that it determined how the rest of the time in that school would be. 

After getting nothing from the boys but shrugs and okays he finally dropped the topic. 

****

<<<>>>

****

****  


That first evening Dean informed Bobby he had no homework. He was lying. Even if he was inclined to believe the kid Sam’s eye roll as he pulled out his own homework. Bobby let it go and joined Sam at the table pouring over material about a hunt Rufus was in.

Dean stubbornly remained fidgety in the kitchen. Peering over Sam’s shoulder to see what he was learning, and every now and again jogging in place or doing push-ups. Finally Bobby had enough. If the kid wasn’t going to do homework today, then fine, but he didn’t need to be bothering the two who were doing what they were supposed to. 

“If you’re not going to do your homework today, I can’t make you. Until then go for a run and work off some of your excess energy.” Bobby glanced up from the book. “Just know though that even if you don’t want to do homework, I fully expect you to pass your classes. Not doing homework must mean that you know _everything_.”

“Whatever.” Dean startled a little at the concern. He thought that Bobby would have dropped the argument. His dad certainly didn’t pursue the topic. He’d never really thought about a life outside of hunting, or for that matter tinkering with engines. To be honest it was making him a little uncomfortable. It was a lot easier when there was a plan in set for him. “I’m going for a run.”

Bobby shrugged and nudged his nose back under his ancient book. “Just stay close to the lot, and be back before dark.”

“Sure thing.” Dean went up the stairs to change out of his jeans.

“He’s considering it.” When Dean was out of ear shot Sam spoke up. “He’s kind of like dad. He doesn’t commit to a concept until he’s considered or panicked about everything. And right now, you’ve got him panicking.”

Bobby gave Sam a curious glance. 

Sam looked up from his own homework. “Dean’s real smart. There are times that I come home from school with no clue about a-” Sam paused. “-a concept. And Dean picks up my notes and puts everything together real easily. Dean is always real smart during hunts. Dad is always proud of him whenever he gets back, gloating about how Dean figured some clever way of getting out of a situation.”

“You’re real smart too. Signed up for Spanish two right off the bat and you never even took one. You taught yourself the language.” Bobby stated not cloaking the pride in his tone. 

“Yeah, but I’m a different smart. Dean can fix the Impala, and he knows what to do during a hunt. Me, I’m just book smart. There’s no need for book smart in the hunting world.”

Bobby snorted at the comment. The boy sounded so adult and serious when he said it. “You hear that from your daddy or something?”

It was meant in humor but Sam stayed quiet.

Bobby’s eyebrows knitted together at Sam’s silence. “He did, didn’t he?”

Sam knitted his hands together. “It’s okay. He didn’t mean it to be rude, plus he was- not himself at the time.”

“You mean foolishly drunk.”

“It’s okay. He apologized, sort of, once he felt better. Anyways…he’s right. I’m really good at research, but Dean is really great with the weapons.” Sam shrugged. “Besides I don’t want to hunt. I wanna go to college. My teacher a few months ago showed me how to look up schools and what degrees they offer. I was thinking that I’d try and be a scientist. Or  
I could be a professor. I just wanna do something that will make a difference.”

Bobby’s gaze softened. Anger directed towards John deflated as Sam wore his hopes and dreams on his sleeves.

“I want a house, with a dog. I’ve always wanted a dog of my own. Dad always says that they’re a lot of responsibility. Feeding them, training them, and making sure they don’t make messes, but as an adult I can take care of one myself. ‘N I’d want a big fluffy one. I do like small dogs, but they’re too yappy. Big dogs have a kind of grace.” He glanced over at Bobby his face reddening as he realized he’d just gushed out everything. “Sorry I’ll get back to my homework.”

“No. That’s an admirable dream. Wanting to be normal isn’t a crime. Besides, it’s just like I told your hard headed brother. You can do anything you put your mind to.”  
Sam ducked his head down. “I don’t think I’m smart enough to-”

“Please kid. You picked up Latin quicker than I even did.” Bobby paused and gave Sam a determined glance. “You could accomplish anything you want.”

His homework suddenly became more important. “When did you become an inspirational poster?” 

“Since you started talking about white picket fences and hopes.” Bobby smirked. “Your brother may be the king of sass, but you my boy are the king of sap. You can turn any situation into a chick-flick.”

“Then what does that make you?” Sam was still focused on his homework but his smile was wide.

Bobby flicked the back of the kid’s hair. “The one who tolerates the two of you.”

Sam gave Bobby a grateful look. He wasn’t sure if Bobby understood, but what Sam had here for the last three weeks had been amazing. He’d never had it before. Stability had always been lost as the family went from one place to another. Here at Bobby’s home he felt safe, and at peace.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam has an request that Dean isn't excited about.

Sam’s lungs burned a little as he bent over, resting his hands on his knees trying to catch his breath. The cool temperature didn’t help much; the cold air burned at the back of his throat. He remained crouched as his breath finally steadied. One thing Sam was finding enjoyable the longer he was as Uncle Bobby’s, was training. He’d fought tooth and nail before, but now without his Marine, hard-ass father he was finding the exercise therapeutic. He made it his goal to exercise on the regular now days. Some sessions he even used the homemade gun range to keep up his weaponry skills.

Also, although he was nowhere near his brother, he was finding himself start to gain weight. Already his brother was pointing out that his brother’s fat would turn to muscle if he kept working. Of course that usually followed with some reference to the female variety and him getting it on. While Sam wasn’t too worried about the muscle or the girls he couldn’t help but appreciate the fact that he was no longer the thin shadow he used to be. The cloths that had been purchased those four weeks ago finally didn’t require an extra notch in the belt. 

“Hey runt!” Dean called from the front door opening. His brother had been leaned against the door frame and stepped out onto the deck. “It’s cold out. Come in if you’re finished.”

As Sam came up the steps Dean’s new habit kicked in. Before the boy could enter the house Dean took Sam’s hands and frowned at the chill he felt. His hand then went up to the exposed part of his neck and relaxed at the skin warm from the exertion of running. Ever since it had been getting colder Dean always was sure his little brother was warm. Either checking to see if his body temperature was appropriate or he was wearing enough layers of socks and jackets.

It was only the beginning of November and Sam knew he had a long way to go and a lot of patience to keep. “I went for a run Dean. Not a quick dip in some frozen lake. And just in case you didn’t know running warms you up.”

“I know.” Dean stated a little defensively. He pushed Sam inside and closed the door. He shoved a glass of water he’d prepared the second he heard Sam jogging back to the front of the house. “I care about you, so sue me.”

Sam took the water, and despite being grateful for the concern rolled his eyes as a show for his brother. “You’re a mother hen Dean. I’m surprised you’re not constantly trying to wipe smutz of my face.” Sam muttered sarcastically. 

A wicked grin crossed Dean’s face and before Sam could squirm away, Dean had the glass out of his hand on the table next to the door and Sam in a headlock. Sam heard rather than saw Dean dramatically lick the palm of his free hand. Sam knew what was coming next, and fought to get out of his big brother’s hold, but Dean had his weight and height to his advantage. Sam continued to fight as Dean wiped his saliva covered hand down his hair in a perverse way to fix his hair. 

“Deaaaann!!!” Sam waved his thin arms to no avail.

“Hold on, you still have a fly away.” Dean licked his palm again.

Sam flinched as the hand went down his mop of hair again. “Eewwww, stop it Dean. You’re gross.”

Content the kid was good and traumatized Dean released him and Sam stumbled a few steps away hands going to his hair. The kid seemed to regret it instantly because he brought his hands down and glanced down at them in distaste. “God Dean! You’re so disgusting.”

“And your hair is girly. Bitch.”

“Jerk.” Sam swung a hand toward Dean’s shoulder and was surprised when it made contact. Dean smirked at his little brother playfully, a way of telling the kid that if had wanted to he’d stopped the blow. “Whatever.” Sam gripped the cup of water and headed towards the couch. He sank into the cushions and took a sip. 

Dean barked out a laugh at his brother’s sudden attitude and joined the kid on the couch. He reached for the remote and turned on the newest appliance in the house, the God given TV. 

Dean had been planning on doing decent in school. Just well enough to pass and have the teachers (and Bobby) off his ass. However Uncle Bobby had a different idea. The day Dean had come home and seen the rather old, but beautiful TV in the living room the man had given him an ultimatum. If the kid worked his ass off in school and actually gave a crap (his exact words), the TV would stay. If Dean continued down this route of being just good enough, it would go right back where he had gotten it. 

He imagined that Bobby had scored it on someone’s lawn after they’d upgraded, and he’d fixed it himself. Sure the image wasn’t the greatest and there was an obnoxious patch of yellow in the middle of the screen but Dean could catch reruns and even some new shows. Nothing beat out Saved by the Bell though; Kelly Kapowski had been gifted to the world by the gods themselves.

However Bobby had gotten the thing, and Dean knew the man had him. He did his homework and took notes. Even raised his hands a few times to answer questions off the board; sometimes, he didn’t want to come off as a nerd. 

Dean flipped it to a decent show and leaned back on the couch. “You’re not going to take a shower runt?”

“I will.” Sam stated a little indignantly. He was well aware that he didn’t exactly smell daisy fresh from the run, but he wasn’t exactly reeking. “I just want to sit down a little. I went an extra mile.”

“Nice.” Dean glanced down at the kid, a bit of pride peeking though. He’d always tried to get his dad to lay off the kid. Sam would work, when he wanted to. If you pushed and yelled then all you would get was Sam stubbornly dragging his feet. Dad hadn’t gotten it though, and Dean was quite proud that the kid was working so well. He knew Sam assumed that it was a joke, but Dean knew that when the kid got older all that working out would mean he could score big time with the girls.

Sam stiffened in his seat and Dean noticed the kid turn his head slowly to glance at him. He knew that look. Sam was considering asking him a question. From the amount of debate that Sam seemed to go through in his massive head Dean could tell that it was something he wouldn’t like. The kid must not want to ruin Dean’s good mood.

“You want to ask me something. So what is it?”

Sam scrunched up his face. He hated that his brother could read him like a book. “What makes you think I want something?” He turned away and tried to keep his face neutral.

“Oh please Samantha. You wear your heart on a damn sleeve. It practically comes with subtitles. I know everything that you are thinking.” Dean snorted.

Sam frowned and shook his head. “I’m not that easy.”

“Easier than a girl on prom night.” Dean snickered. “So what is it?”

Sam studied his big brother. Although Dean was calm now, Sam knew the request would change that. Sam wasn’t sure he was ready to deal with Mega-Mother-Hen I need to keep you protected. 

“Look just ask runt. The worst I can say is no.”

“It really isn’t.” Sam said quietly.

Dean barely caught what his little brother had muttered. “Look unless you need fast cash because you got a girl pregnant.” Sam threw Dean a horrified look. “Or maybe you need help hiding a body. It’s always the quiet, short, shaggy ones that you have to look out for.” Bitch face number six crossed Sam’s face. “Then it isn’t that bad. Just tell me!”

At this point the good mood was gone. Sam sighed and rubbed the back of his gross head of hair. “You promise not to freak?”

“Not guaranteeing anything.” Dean smirked. 

Sam took a deep breath. Well, it had gotten this far already. “I kinda want to go on a hunt.”

If that moment had been a cartoon, Dean’s jaw would have dropped to the ground, and his eyes bulge out. “I’m sorry, you want to what?” 

“I mean it Dean.” Sam wrung at his hands. He had expected a negative reaction from his brother to be sure. “I want to try again. I don’t want that first hunt to be it. I want to be successful.”

Dean frowned, and clicked the TV off. “I already told you, runt, what happened wasn’t your fault. Spirits are sneaky and some can be downright nasty. Last thing you needed on your first hunt was a crazy homicidal spirit who had tortured twelve while alive. If you hadn’t been swiped it certainly would have been Dad or me.”

“It’s not that. I just want to finish it.” Sam said quietly. “It doesn’t have to be a nest of vampires. I just want to prove to myself that I can do it.”

“You don’t have to prove anything. That’s why we’re here. We can be normal everyday kids. You know TV, homework, friends, girlfriends…”

Sam gave his brother a pleading glance. Sure the two months had been fantastic. Especially the last two weeks he’d been in school. He got to wake up in his bed, in their bedroom. He would go to school, catch up with actual friends, and come back to the house to do homework, and do a few chores. Sure it was all typical every day stuff, but it was his typical everyday stuff. However the messed up hunt was boring into his soul the longer he thought about it. It wasn’t so much the failure, but the fact that if he were to discuss his first and only hunt all he could say was he spent it in some stupid cooler. Sam was trying to convince himself this was for him not for his dad, but he was failing.

“Bobby says there’s a cemetery that’s haunted.”

“No.”

“He says that the body of the man is buried there and it’s as easy as digging ‘em up and burning him.”

“No!”

“Guy was an accountant. Died from a stroke. He just appears in the cemetery freaking people out.”

“Damn it Sam! I said NO!”

“He was an accountant!”

“I don’t care if he was some old ladies cat. They may not attack regular people just passing through, but the second they even think you’re about to torch them, they start using their mind powers and throwing things around.” Dean stood up from the couch. “NO!”

The damn puppy eyes came out. “I’d have you and Bobby to protect me.”

It had been 56 days since he found his frozen brother in the cooler. It had been eight weeks from that terrible September 6th he’d failed his little brother miserably. Wasn’t it clear that Dean couldn’t protect his brother? Hell he hadn’t been able to give him a decent amount of food before. 

“That mean’s squat in the supernatural world.” Dean grew angry. “Anything can happen.”

Sam bit his lip. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“The hell it wasn’t!” Dean griped. He paused a second and hated the fact that Sam knew what he was worried about, and that he just admitted to feeling that way. 

“Look, if it wasn’t my fault.” Sam gave Dean a purposeful look. Sam knew Dean still blamed himself, even after the constant reminder that it wasn’t his big brother’s fault. “Then it wasn’t yours either.”

Dean went silent. The kid wasn’t playing fair, but neither was he on that point.

“I just want to go out there and get over being afraid of what’s out there. Trust me I don’t aspire to be a hunter.”

Fear bottled in Dean’s chest. Anything could happen. Maybe their accountant would finally grow a pair and fight back, or nature could screw with them. Everything was against a hunter when they went out. “I don’t want you out there.”

“Dean, anything that could happen out there could happen here.” Sam met his brother’s stern gazes and didn’t falter. “Please. I don’t want to go without you or your permission.”

Dean studied Sam. The damn kid was putting every bit of his soul into those eyes of his. He wanted Sam out there like he wanted to pass a kidney stone, but the kid wanted to prove himself. Dean remembered how important that first hunt was. He’d let his brother have one successful hunt.

“One and done, Sam.” Dean caved. “I mean it; one.” He stabbed a finger at Sam. “And if there is so much as one scratch on you, so help me I will kill you and Bobby.”

Sam appeared more nervous than excited. “Thanks Dean.”

Dean grunted and gave his little brother a steady look. He’d be damn sure through the entire process that Sam was watched. He’d attach a rope around the kid’s waist if he had to. There was no way in hell he was going to be carrying an unconscious little brother away from a hunt. Not if he could help it.

“One scratch.” Dean echoed.

“I get it. Bobby n’ I are fish food.” Sam put up both hands and nodded his head. 

****

<<<>>>

****

****  


If looks could kill, Bobby would have found himself singing with the angels when Dean entered the kitchen. A heavy hand carded through the kids hair stripping it from the gel that he’d put in it that morning before school. Bobby didn’t mention the hair, or the attitude. He just casually looked up from the ancient tome he’d invested his day into.

“Something wrong?”

“Yeah, something’s wrong. Why’d you tell the damn kid he could go on a hunt? Why’d you tell him about some haunted cemetery?” Dean demanded.

Bobby sighed and rubbed a hand across his stubble. “Where is the kid?”

“I told him to take a shower.” Dean’s voice was still harsh.

“Okay now, look. I got some heart wrenching story from the boy about wanting to go on a hunt to feel better about himself.” Bobby held out a hand to stop the livid kid. “I told him the same crap. It wasn’t his fault. He wasn’t obligated to do anything. But he unleashed those damn eyes and I told him that if he could convince you, I knew of an easy hunt close to home.”

Dean cursed sharply.

“I take it you said yes. I was sure you’d knock him upside the head.”

“I wanted to but he used his eyes on me too. Damn kid.” Dean sighed, anger dissipating to fear. “What do you know about our friend when he was living?”

As if ready for that line of questioning Bobby slid a manila folder to the older Winchester. “Norman McCovy. Born 1930 and died 1986 at 56 years old. Lived alone with six cats and car payments. The worst thing I think he had on record was a parking ticket he paid for the day it was issued.”

“Still, he’s had nine years to up his game and potentially get out of control.” Dean glanced over the notes and files.

“So far all he’s done is pop up on a grieving family member and spook the pants off them. The last nine years he’s not gathered the courage to do much else.” Bobby glanced at the boy and sighed. “Besides, this guy may have had nine years, but I’ve had more working up my skills. Don’t worry.”

Dean threw Bobby an irritated look.

“At least don’t wet your panties about it, then.” Bobby rolled his eyes. “Kid just wants to prove himself that’s all.”

“That’s the thing. The kid doesn’t have to prove shit.” Dean blurted angrily. “Nobody is judging him.”

Bobby fought back the need for a quick shot. As much as he loved the two boys they made him quite stressed. “He is though. Between you n’ yer daddy he has some kind of legacy to live up to. All he wants is one win. Besides you know I’d take a bullet for either of you. Anything goes wrong I’ll be in front of the kid.”

Dean studied the older man. He sensed the apprehension Bobby had as well. “Fine. I still don’t like it, but I’ll let Sammy have his win.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam's second hunt.

That day they made plans. The boys still had two days of school left that week, Bobby enforced that they both go to school despite whatever persuasion Dean tried. Norman wasn't exactly priority number one. The morning of Friday November 3rd, Dean and Sam would go to school like they normally did. Bobby would pick up Sam so they could pack up and prep for the hunt, and Dean would meet them an hour later when his school got off.

When Bobby's truck rumbled to a stop at the middle school, Sam broke away from his friends and made his way over. Bobby nearly jumped out of the truck out of pure instinct when a teacher darted across the front of the school and grabbed the kid's arm. Sam smiled at the guy and they exchanged a short conversation, but Bobby didn't like the look the man had. It was almost like Sam was some kind of four course meal and the man hadn't eaten in a decade.

After a little while Bobby felt the teacher was detaining him too long. His hand released his seatbelt however, just as Sam gave the man a smile and a wave. Sam jerked open the truck's passenger door and dropped his contents inside before hopping in himself. Bobby returned his eyes to the man to find that he'd followed Sam's steps all the way to the truck.

"Hey Bobby!" Sam chirped brightly as he applied his own seatbelt. When the kid didn't get a response Sam glanced over at his uncle and found him staring out into the crowd of students and teachers swarming the front of the school. "Hey, is everything okay?"

Maybe Bobby was wrong. Maybe the adult was just one of those teachers who cared about his students. Another part of him knew however that as a hunter, his gut was something to listen to. "Everything's fine kid." Bobby grunted. "Who was that guy you were talking to by the way? He one of your teachers?"

Sam blinked in confusion. Despite the older man trying to hide it, Sam could sense the worry he had. "Yeah, that's Mr. Robinson. He's my algebra teacher, he's real nice, but he keeps trying to sell me on joining his academic club. Why? Is everything okay?"

Bobby took his eyes off the crowd where Mr. Robinson had disappeared into. "Yeah, it's fine." He shook his head to clear it and buckled his seatbelt again. "Okay, let's get out of here, we have a hunt tonight."

Traffic with the just let out schools made getting home take a little longer, but eventually the truck was parked and the two were able to prep for the hunt. Sam helped Bobby clean the guns and prepare salt rounds. By the time Dean had his Baby parked in the front of the house Sam was packing the last of the shells with salt.

It would take about three hours to get to the cemetery. They didn't plan on being gone the entire weekend but Bobby insisted that they pack a bag just in case. Dean didn't panic at the notion. Even something as small as a potential witness could postpone the hunt. If anything the closer he got to hunting he felt his blood hum in excitement. Dean hadn't realized just how much he missed the adrenaline of the hunt. Even packing the guns up gave him a high.

The only time Dean faltered was when Bobby insisted they take his truck. There was a verbal fight but eventually they packed up the Chevelle and Dean took shotgun with a pout. Despite the hitch, the drive over wasn't too bad. Sure Bobby played some 60's songs that Dean would usually skip over and a lot of Johnny Cash but Dean didn't mind. He was just happy that Sam didn't seem too scared for this hunt. When they were on their way to the abandoned plant the poor kid had been quivering, and the tension thick. Here Bobby laughed and joked with them, and even tried his hand at some off tune singing. It was almost like they were a normal family taking a road trip. Even Dean forgot to give Bobby a hard time for leaving behind his Baby.

By the time they arrived in the town, darkness had fallen and the clock read sometime after nine. The cemetery was abandoned by then, not a single car in the place. In fact, it almost appeared to be abandoned for years. Vines were working their way up headstones, and some statues and headstones had prominent cracks.

"Man this place is a dump!" Dean blurted. A few stones had enough care that suggested family still visited and cleaned up their area. He hefted the duffle higher up on his shoulder and wrinkled his nose. "So where is ole Norm anyway."

"I got a general location…" Bobby pulled out a paper that he had scribbled down the general location of Norman's grave on. After reading it he glanced around the cemetery and deflated a bit. "It's next to a tall oak."

Dean glanced around shining his flashlight in the destroyed place. In the corner there was a tall oak, and in the middle of the cemetery there was another shedding colored leaves. "Okay two tall oak trees. What else you got?"

Bobby had the sense to look sheepish. "Well, a tall oak tree."

"And what do you mean by next to?" Sam asked.

Both turned their heads to the youngest.

Sam cleared his throat, and enhanced the question. "Is it a few feet away? Or to the left or right of the tree?"

"Well, my source wasn't exactly clear when I asked, and I was focused on whether or not this would be safe." Bobby glanced at the paper and after a few seconds crumpled it and tossed it behind him. "Well-"

"Not splitting up!" Dean stated harshly.

"I wasn't going to suggest that." Bobby to be honest had thought it, but had given it a second thought. He didn't think either boy would be up for that plan. "I was going to say we start in the corner, span out a few feet and try the tree in the center."

Dean's face calmed. "Okay, I'm good with that plan." He nudged Sam's shoulder.

"Yeah that sounds logical." Sam gave the plan a nod.

So they started in the corner. They scraped away weed after weed from the headstones shining each of their lights on the engravings. One stone was completely illegible and Bobby made a mental note to return if Norman's hadn't been found. When they got far enough from the oak Bobby called to the boys and they diverted their attention to the tree in the center. They fanned out checking each stone, Dean sticking close to Sam.

"Got it!" Sam called excitedly as he ripped away the last of the vines. "Norman McCovy."

Dean crouched down and read the years to double check the years on the stone. "Yeah, it's our guy alright. Croaked 1986." He dumped the duffle on the ground next to the plot with a grunt. Slowly Dean yanked out two shovels and dropped them before the headstone. "Who's on digging duty?"

"Sam is." Bobby scooped up one of the shovels and tossed it to the kid.

The boy fumbled with the tool for a second but found his grip on it before it could fall to the ground. Sam bit his tongue at the argument wanting to come, but silenced himself. He had wanted this. He'd play by their rules. Instead he dug the blade of the shovel into the ground. "Just me?"

"I'm doing it too." Bobby admitted taking the second. "Dean's watching our backs."

Dean looked a little nervous at the notion of watching both his brother's and his uncle's back but he collected himself. "Yeah, I got you guys." He squeezed a choke hold on the rifle he'd been cradling throughout the entire search. He didn't say anything but he knew what Bobby was doing. Already he was scared of failing his brother. Dean stopped that line of thought. Nothing was getting to the kid though. Nothing!

The damn kid solidified his confidence when he smiled a wide toothy smile and told his big brother, "I trust you Dean."

Dean ignored the urge to pull Sam into a hug and rather gave the kid a whack in his shoulder. Sam gave a whine and freed a hand to put it to his shoulder. "Just think about digging runt."

Sam leaned up on the handle of the shovel. "Whatever. Unlike you, my brain can handle more than one thought."

Dean rolled his eyes and motioned to the plot with the gun. "Just dig."

The two worked hard on the hole. Sam kept up well with Bobby and kept at the dirt with a vigor. The entire time Dean kept a sharp vigil over the two his eyes darting around the graveyard for any sign of movement. Except for the branches shifting against the breeze there was nothing moving.

The two were about halfway down the grave when Dean, still watching their surroundings, quirked up his eyebrow at a random thought. "So, if this guy is an easy job, then why hasn't anyone taken care of him in the last nine years?"

Bobby paused in digging, and shoved the blade into the dirt. He wiped the back of his hand across his forehead and took in a heavy breath. It took a second for him to finally speak. "Well, creatures come in a sort of tier. The higher up the thing the more bragging rights you get."

"And ole Norm sits low on the scale." Dean concluded.

"Very low. Besides, hunters figure that there are more important hunts to take care of and pass over the small ones." Bobby reached for a canteen they'd filled with lukewarm water before leaving. He took a long swig and put it down, before resuming digging.

"I can take over if you're getting tired old man." Dean smirked to himself not daring to turn around and glance at the two. Through all this he was determined to watch for everything.

Bobby took another deep breath before responding. "Look you whipper snapper. I can dig father and longer than you can."

"Suuurre." Dean drew out.

"Is there an official tier system?" Sam finally asked when they got another foot down. Sam reached up for the canteen and took a short break, while he glanced at his stiffened older brother. "Like some set of rules?"

Bobby stopped as well and sat quiet for a second waiting for anything to peek his interest. So far there was nothing, despite the obvious chill in the air, the crickets were still singing and the usual sounds came from all around. "Nothing quite set in stone. Usually it's set in the amount of danger. Werewolves are set pretty high with claws, bloodlust, and intelligence."

"Vampires?" Sam asked.

"I have never personally taken care of one but they're pretty up there." He wagged his fingers at the boy and Sam capped the canteen and tossed it over. "Spirits are a little harder. Where more physical beings have some pretty set parameters as far as intelligence and general sharpness of claws, or teeth, spirits are more tested on time, viciousness, and abilities. Your friend at the plant, I'd rank him pretty high up there. I mean he had 12 victims alive and anyone dumb enough to get close to the damn place when he was dead usually ended up toast. Not to mention the amount of time he had to work on his abilities." He didn't miss Dean flinch. "Defiantly not for beginners."

Sam dug the shovel back in after the short break. "What was your first hunt, Uncle Bobby?" He gave a sharp exhale as he dug up another shovelful of dirt and tossed it to the side.

"Well, after Karen-" Bobby started casually but didn't finish his first sentence. "I was a bit inexperienced, and a little too eager to get into the business. Your daddy wasn't the only one who got a little gung ho. I was in Montana following a kitsune. She got my blade, and was about to slit my throat and some jack ass comes rushing in to my rescue. Moron took me under his wing and taught me everything afterward."

For the first time Dean broke his gaze away from their surroundings and turned to look at Bobby. "Who helped you?"

"Rufus. Although never tell him I told you ever admitted out loud that he saved me." He joined back into the digging and gave a breathy grunt with each shovelful. "He's been trying to get me to admit that to him since day one."

Bobby didn't miss Sam's curious glance. He was interested if Sam was a bit shocked that his first attempt at hunting, as an adult, went wrong.

Meanwhile Dean was just humored. Dean turned back laughing. His laughter broke though as he ducked down in time to avoid an unidentified flying object. Bobby dropped his shovel and grabbed Sam putting his back to the object as it bounced off the headstone and into the hole. It solidly thunked into Bobby's back with a force that even made Bobby gasp in pain. Bobby kept Sam pressed against him as he glanced around for more projectiles.

"You see him?!" Dean barked harshly his eyes roving around.

"No." Bobby reluctantly released Sam who kept close even after. "We need to continue," Bobby ground out. "Before Norman builds up the energy to continue throwing-" He scooped up a sharp angled rock. "-things at us."

Sam picked up his dropped shovel. "Still got us Dean?"

"Yeah." Dean stated curtly.

They dug with a newfound strength, all conversation died out. It wasn't until Sam pushed down on the wedge with his foot and he heard the sound of splintering wood that they even stopped. Dean even offered a short glance down the hole.

The smell instantly assaulted them. Sam remained down there long enough to help clear away enough dirt from the top of the casket, but accepted Bobby's laced hands to boost out of the hole. Standing just to the side Bobby pulled open the pine box and pulled it open to expose a grinning skeleton. The man's suit lay in tatters around the man's remains. Sam passed down accelerant and salt and Bobby gave the body a good dose of both. He passed the items back up and with a little help from Sam pulled himself out of the hole.

Just as he was preparing to reach in his pocket for his book of matches when a man materialized a few feet away from Dean and flicked his wrist. As if he knew the man's intent Bobby flew back, and narrowly hit a headstone and sliding some feet away from the boys. Dean pulled the trigger on his gun and fought the kick back. Norman's image dispersed before the salt round could go through him. Even before Sam reached Dean's side, Dean's fingers gripped Sam's coat and dragged him over.

"Bobby!" Dean called his hands still gripping Sam's coat sleeve and eyes firmly watching his surroundings. "Bobby! You okay!"

There was an uncomfortable amount of silence then Bobby finally released a breathless groan. "Good."

They weren't out of the woods yet though. Mr. mild mannered, cat loving accountant was just a little peeved about his grave being dug up. And as predicted he was pitching a fit; big freaking surprise.

"Sammy?" Dean poised an unspoken question in the kid's name.

Sam didn't need to have Dean expand the request. He dug in his pockets and felt the book of matches that had some bar's name on the label. "Yeah."

"Okay, I've got your back. I need you to light up and throw it down; fast." Dean instructed quietly, sighting down his weapon, his finger twitching close to the trigger. "The second this guy thinks we're up to something he's going to do something."

Sam didn't vocalize his agreement and Dean didn't need him too. From the side of his vision Dean saw Sam's hand slip to his pocket again. A proud smirk widened on Dean's face. The kid may be hard on himself about a lot of things, but he was pretty awesome. Not many kids would have their cool in situations like this.

"I got it." Sam finally said his hand wrapping around the small match book in his back pocket. "You ready?"

"Yeah."

Sam pulled out his matches and pulled a single match free. Norman made his appearance behind the boy and grabbed his shoulders. Rock salt went through the accountants head before Sam could utter a sound. As Norman disappeared Dean glanced appreciatively at Bobby getting into a standing position his raised gun smoking.

"Now Sam!" Bobby called.

Before Norman made another appearance Sam lit the single match and pressed it against the others causing the whole book to go up. With a single flick Sam dropped his flame into the grave. The second the flame made contact with Norman's doused up skeleton it up in a bright flame too. Sam stepped back in shock; Dean pulling him along by the hood of his jacket away from the blaze.

A loud wail echoed through the cemetery and a bit of the chill disappeared as well. Sam wasn't sure if he could account that on the fire now in front of the small family, or the sudden lack of spiritual activity. Sam was so focused on the flames that he gave a little jump when Bobby slipped up behind them and patted both boys on the shoulder.

"Good job, boys." Bobby praised. He drew in a long tired breath stretching his tired muscles.

Sam turned around and gave his Uncle a glance searching for injuries. "Hey, you okay Uncle Bobby?"

"'M good." Bobby straightened under Sam and Dean's scrutiny. "A few bruises, nothing I can't handle. Norm didn't get to either of you though?"

Both boys shook their heads. Although Dean made sure to glance into Sam's eyes to make sure the kid wasn't hiding something. Content the kid wasn't concealing any injury he released a pent up breath. "You seemed to get the brunt of it. Norm didn't take a liking to you."

"Don't suppose he did." Bobby gave a breathless chuckle and shifted a hand over his shoulder to the tender spot on his back where the rock had hit him. "I should have brought a few beers. Maybe sit down and talked it through."

Dean watched Bobby rub the spot but didn't mention getting first aid at the moment. "I don't know. Accountant, he had like what? Twelve cats? Doesn't seem the beer kind of guy to me. I'd say appletini."

"It was six…" Sam broke in. When he got a glare from Dean, Sam shrugged. "I pay attention."

"You have such a nerd brain." Dean snorted. He crouched to stick the sawed off into the duffle, and as he stood accepted the shovel Sam pushed into his hands. Dean notched up an eyebrow but sighed in agreement when Sam motioned his head towards Bobby. "Bobby, me n' Sam will fill up the hole."

Bobby made move to question the boy's sudden interest on digging, but caught Sam's concerned gaze. "Fine," he reluctantly grunted in agreement. "You two fill the hole up."


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam gets a call and Dean gets a scare.

The wrap up after the hunt didn't take too long. They filled back up the hole and insisted Bobby didn't drive. Dean figured the man shouldn't drive back the three hours. Bobby didn't want Dean driving his precious Chevelle however and so they reached an agreement to spend the evening in a motel room and left in the morning.

Life went on as normal following that. Bobby kept his ears out for anymore about the annoying appearances. But it had been a week and there was nothing from the citizens and hunter community. Bobby also focused on his new curiosity, Mr Robinson. Sam despite going back to school like normal still had Bobby picking him up. Usually his eyes scanned the crowd. The second time he'd finally spotted Mr. Robinson and his shock of blond hair headed towards Sam, Bobby didn't get jumpy. If anything Mr. Robinson appeared a little pale and sickly. Bobby wished he could account for the ill feeling he'd had toward the man that afternoon before the hunt.

A week after the hunt Bobby dropped some good news on the boys. He'd called around and a positive amount of hunters (known and trusted by Bobby) had confirmed showing up at a shortly planned Thanksgiving dinner. Sam remained excited even after Bobby reminded the kid that they could always cancel last second due to a hunt.

Dean didn't get excited, instead he grew somber in remembrance. He went back to the last Thanksgiving he could recall, Sammy was the new baby in mommy's tummy and Dean was crossing his fingers for a boy, not a girl. The one he had been anticipating with the new baby alive had been postponed forever by fire and death. He had tried to make the future Thanksgivings with Sam enjoyable as possible. However rather than a table full of turkey, ham, and the delicious sides, they would order out and get something much more expensive than normal. They did however watch the Thanksgiving Day Parade religiously whenever they could.

"So it'll be like everything? Turkey, stuffing, and cranberries?" Sam asked his excitement palpable. The twelve year old boy had suddenly regressed to the four year old snaggle-toothed curly mop he once had been.

"That, football, and the good ole Macy's Day Parade." Bobby grinned wide, Sam's excitement rubbing off on him. "It's been a while since any of us hunters had really has had a proper Thanksgiving.

Dean smirked. "It would be nice. I don't know that Sammy ever celebrated a proper holiday."

"I always enjoyed them." Sam bumped Dean's shoulder. "They were a bit- unorthodox, but you always made sure that they were something to remember."

The guilt Dean felt at Sam's failed childhood faded for a second. Just like always Sam's small sensitive comment was threatening to gush tears from him. Stupid Sam. "You're such a girl, dork." Dean remedied his warm feeling in his heart by sticking a finger in his mouth and, before Sam could move away from the anticipated move, stick the finger into his little brother's ear.

After a fight, in which Sam ended up in a headlock, and lots and lots of cleaning; the morning had come. Thanksgiving was there and Sam was uncontainable in excitement. Dean woke up to Sam bouncing on his bed chanting parade. Even against Dean's warning, woke up Rufus.

The man had shown up the other evening and shared more than a few beers with Bobby, making him a little uneager to join the world of the living. Even though the man nearly tore off Sam's head, he found his way downstairs with a cup of coffee, watching the Macy's Day Parade with Bobby equipped with an apron and various stirring spoons walking in and out of the kitchen to sneak a peek, Sam bouncing all over the place pointing out balloons, and Dean trying to hide his excitement behind sarcasm. Rufus imagined this was what having a family was like, and thanked the Lord he hadn't fathered any kids or married.

After the parade, Sam jumped in the kitchen to help cook the meal, but got downgraded when Ellen and her daughter showed up. Although still helping, he started following the instructions of the very commanding woman. Jo, Ellen's 10 year old daughter, wrinkled her nose at the notion of playing with the boys or helping in the kitchen, and opted rather to exploring Bobby's home. Bobby couldn't help but grow a little concerned when Ellen felt compelled to remind her girl to stay away from any weapons.

When Sam had outgrown his usefulness and been kicked out of the kitchen, he gave himself the job of doorman. Every time the doorbell rang Sam beat everyone there to give whichever hunter that had arrived a big excited grin and a loud Happy Thanksgiving. He would get different responses. A few of the older men scowled down at the boy and pushed through to find a beer in the fridge. One woman, Bobby had called Annie and hugged for a lengthy time, had crouched down and ruffled the boys unruly mop returning his greeting.

The one to surprise him was an African American couple. He'd thrown the door open and given them his best and brightest greeting only to have the woman clutch her chest and step back to stare. Sam didn't move a little in shock.

"Are you okay?" He had asked a little tentatively.

"She's fine." The man pulled his wife into calming embrace. Sam grew a little unsettled though when the man's eyes settled on him and grew a little sad as well. "You just startled her that's all."

Sam studied the couple for a little multiple questions circling in his head. By the state of the couple he figured that they weren't quite prepared for his inquisitive mind. Instead he stepped inside the house and out of sight from the couple. He stopped by the kitchen to inform his uncle that he had a few new guests, and through Sam's tone Bobby wiped his hands on his apron and nearly sped walked to the door.

Sam lingered close to the door, but out of sight long enough to hear the woman apologize and Bobby inform her that he understood. They had been through a lot, and he should have warned her that there would be someone his age here for the dinner.

The boy's heart dropped. He knew what that meant. Where he had lost his mother, this mother had lost a son. That was probably what led the couple to hunting. If Sam knew one thing for sure it was that hunting was something you joined due to grief and loss. Sam made sure that he'd avoid the couple for the evening. He wasn't quite prepared to cause anyone unneeded sadness on a holiday.

Despite the slight hitch in the day, it went surprising well. Sam continued to introduce two more into the home making the total eight. Regrettably the two Sam hoped would show up couldn't. Pastor Jim was hosting a Thanksgiving for the homeless, and Caleb was miles away on a hunt unable to make it. Sam didn't let it get to him though. The evening was just what Sam imagined a regular Thanksgiving to be; men and women drinking a few beers, laughter, and some tender turkey. When the time came, the channel switched back and forth between football games, college and professional.

Sam understood that people got very emotional over sports, but the verbal arguments and raised voices between the crowd even surprised him. Apparently one of the matches had two rivals; Minnesota Vikings and Detroit Lions. Bobby very proudly cheered for the Vikings, and Rufus (Sam imagined just to piss his friend off) claimed to be a Lions fan. The two went from chummy to heated enemies very quickly. Bobby even had a few colorful words to say to his friend once his team lost, but they made up in time to both cheer for the Cowboys. Sam didn't think he'd ever understand the concept.

The evening wrapped up late, but eventually the small crowd of hunters filed out in favors of hunts, or motel rooms. Rufus, and Annie however stuck around for the night. Sam didn't pay any mind, he simply dropped on the bed and instantly fell asleep, but Dean noticed the woman named Annie didn't go upstairs. Nor did she sleep on the uncomfortable couch downstairs.

****

<<<>>>

****

**  
**

After a quick dinner of seemingly endless Thanksgiving leftovers Bobby and Dean left Sam to work on a car in the garage. Sam stayed behind, favoring a book on detailed Greek Mythology. Dean wrinkled his nose at the textbook, having just gotten out of school he couldn't imagine wanting to read more. Sometimes the kid was too nerd for his own good.

Sam didn't mind the scrutiny. He still hummed with the excitement of the holiday. Halloween had been ignored. Ever since discovering that the things of horror actually existed in this world, dressing up as them and walking around begging for money had lost its appeal real quickly. That Thanksgiving though had been amazing. Not only had there never been that much food on one table in Sam's existence, but the atmosphere had been so bright and happy. Something that felt lost on the days of motels and new towns. He did feel the absence of his father though. He wished he could have been there.

Sam shook the thought and wrapped a thin blanket over his small frame. He dragged the blanket and book to the arm of Bobby's recliner set himself comfortably for an extended period of time. He got through one chapter (a lengthy one though) until one of the lines in the kitchen rang out. He put the book down and slipped into the kitchen to glance at what line was being called. It was the personal line. Sam bit his lip thinking about what to do.

The line was always picked up by Bobby. Then again Bobby didn't specify that he was the only one to answer calls. Unlike John he set no specific rules other than do your best and try and act like boys. The line continued to blink and wail. What if there was a hunter on the other line needing help from Bobby. All Sam had to do was jot down a note and leave it for the hunter to read later.

With that final thought Sam's hand perched on the phone and after a last second of hesitation greeted the person calling. "Hello, this is Bobby Singer's phone."

The line was silent save a heavy uneven breathing that gave the slightest clue someone was there.

"Bobby isn't able to talk, but I can leave a message." Sam waited patiently. He recognized the unsteady wheeze of a drunk. They took a second to get through to. Whenever his father came home drunk it would take a while for Dean to wrestle him to the bed or to the toilet depending on the drink and how much. Sometimes his father was too much to handle so Sam (after insisting) would help tend to their drunk and ailing father. In fact!

"Dad?" Sam asked cautiously.

The familiar wheezing breath hitched. _It was him!_

"Dad! Hey are you okay? Can you come home? It's almost Christmas and Dean n' I miss you a lot." Sam's voice rose with each syllable. "Please. We're worried n'-"

_"I'm sorry."_ John's grating voice ground out on the line cutting off his son. His voice was timid and quiet. Two thing's John Winchester never was. "I am so sorry."

"Dad? What are you-?" Sam stopped when he heard the heart stopping click. "No! No! No!" Anger swelled in the boy. Why couldn't he get it? Why didn't his dad understand what he wanted? Why wouldn't he ever listen to him? He didn't want a mansion or a pony. All he wanted was his family. His small, broken little family. That included his flakey father. Guess he was just too dumb to think it was possible.

Once again feelings of inadequacy swirled through him. Try as he might he couldn't dismiss them.

"Why am I not good enough?!" Sam bit out. He slammed the corded phone back on the hook, breaking the hook and the phone slammed to the ground and bounced violently before dangling. He wasn't finished though. The usually calm boy swung his fist just under the phones and felt the wood and plaster break under the power. "Why?! Why can't I just be fucking normal?"

He stood there fist halfway through the wall Sam breathed in ragged angry breaths that shook him to the core. How long he stayed there, Sam didn't know. He eventually took a deep calming breath fighting the raw emotion coursing through him. After a few more steadying breaths Sam retracted his hand. He rather saw than felt the broken skin and the blood.

He stepped away from the mess he'd left. He couldn't be here. Not right now. He needed to clear his head. He needed to go for a walk.

****

<<<>>>

****

**  
**

For the second time Dean returned home and didn't see his little brother. First time he had been confused. There had been no sign of struggle and no blood. Now after joking and keeping topic with Bobby as they entered the kitchen Dean's heart stopped. The corded phone was swinging from its perch, and just below the little row of phones a hole. There was undeniably blood from the cavity in the wall and a small little puddle on the ground a foot away. There was a steady blood splatter leading from the kitchen to the back door. Which was where Dean was racing now. His heart thundered loudly and almost felt like it was slamming repeatedly into his ribcage.

"SAMMY!" His vision and hearing tunneled full focus on the back door. Had he been able to hear he would have heard Bobby try and calm him. Had he stayed still he would have felt Bobby try and pull him around to look at him. Unknowingly Dean flailed his limbs, successfully keeping Bobby back and his hand wrenched open the back door using the blood slicked handle.

Sam! In a violet burst Dean threw the back door open and pushed off the back porch into the open space of the lot. "SAMMY!"

"Dean?" It was quiet, but Dean heard his name being said. The kid was there.

To be honest it did little to calm him. Why was there blood? Was Sam okay? Scratch that. The kid had to be okay. "Where are you? Sam?!"

"'M up here." Once again the voice was soft and nearly carried away by the wind, but Dean heard it and pinpointed its location. He took a leap up onto the porch and he leapt up his feet flying towards the little huddled figure crammed between the rotting railing and the cold metal chairs.

Dean pressed his palms to Sam's face drawing the tear streaked face upward. "Hey, you okay? Are you bleeding?" A mass of questions swirled in his head, and fought to get out at once. "What happened?"

"I answered the phone. I shouldn't have." Sam drooped his head back down, but Dean scooped it back up again. Fresh tears were welling up in his kid brother's eyes, and Dean couldn't stand it.

Bobby's shadow settled over the two for a second until the man had noisily scooted the metal chair away from the kid. Dean took the space to crouch down and stretch out the boy's limbs to see if he was injured anywhere.

"I answered the phone, 'n now I ruined everything." Sam ignored Dean's mother-henning in favor of staring past his brother and into the lot. "'M sorry Dean."

Dean hissed loudly when he pried Sam's right hand away from his body and uncurled the clenched fingers. "God damn it, Sam! What did you do?"

"M' sorry."

"You already mentioned that, runt." Dean turned Sam's head to meet his watery hazel eyes. "Tell me what happened."

"I ruined everything." Sam supplied unhelpfully.

Dean's gaze went back to Sam's knuckles and he was vaguely aware of Bobby standing back up and reentering the house. "I got that part too. Come on book nerd, use your big words."

Dean only dared turn away when he heard Bobby gruffly call his name. Bobby was holding up a first aid kit and motioning the boy to move. The motion was met with a glare. Dean wouldn't be moving. His brother was in distress and a firing squad couldn't keep him away.

"I'm not telling you to go. You can stay with him, boy." Bobby gruffly sighed. "I just need to check his wound."

Reluctantly Dean passed over Sam's hand to the man and he went back to focusing on the mental state of his troubled brother. "Hey, talk to me runt. One phone call and you go Mike Tyson on the wall?"

"I-" Sam started but was cut off. Dean knew the kid was just going to parrot what he had been saying earlier.

"Get it. Messed up." Dean bit out. "Now, what happened?"

Sam took a breath to collect himself enough to explain. "I was reading, 'n the phone rang. 'N I figured I would take a message cuz you 'n Uncle Bobby were out in the garage." Dean didn't miss the fact that Sam's vocabulary was a bit lacking due to the emotion. "It was dad."

Both men stilled.

"I didn't know it was him at first. Until I heard him breathing. Dad breathes all funny when he's drunk." Sam hiccupped in a breath. "'N he didn't say anything. I started asking him when he'd be back. If he'd be back by Christmas, 'n all he did was 'pologize."

Had his brother not been emotional and he not been wrangling with his own emotions, Dean would have made fun of his brother for dropping the A in the word. Dean smoothed back Sam's hair and pulled his brother towards him in a crushing hug, unmindful of Bobby trying to do first aid.

"I just wanna be a family. Why can't we be a family?"

Dean tamped down the dark hatred rising from leaving his brother in this emotional state again. "We are a family." He stated firmly. "Not all families are perfect though, and while ours is far from it we still love each other. Dad's staying away because he loves us." Dean broke the hug and met Sam's confused eyes. "I know messed up right."

"Can I get your hand now that you two princesses are done hugging?" Bobby broke in and snatched back Sam's bleeding hand. He didn't flinch as he dabbed at the wound with the antiseptic and Sam hissed in pain. "Well that's what happens when you take on a wall."

"'M sorry, Bobby. I wasn't thinking." Sam offered his morose apology.

"There's a first for everything." Dean's joke didn't lighten the situation.

Sam wasn't done. "He hung up, 'n I got mad. 'N the next thing you know I was punching the wall."

"I'm not mad about the wall." Bobby groused. "I'm mad you tore up your knuckles, you knuckle head." A string of curses broke through when Bobby started noticing a few splinters of plaster and wood in the wound once the blood was clearing. "And you tore it up good."

"'M sorry."

"Look, stop apologizing." Dean ground out. He took a deep breath to calm himself and pressed his forehead to Sam's. "You scared the crap out of me runt. Do not do that again!"

"Sorry." The kid was still so quiet.

"Stop! I already told you to stop apologizing." Dean growled. His hands tightened in the boy's hair. "Not for the wall, the phone call, or my future heart condition. None of this is your fault." He took another deep breath and turned to glance at the ugly looking knuckles. "You want to take this clean up inside, Sam?"

Sam was still a while, until he finally allowed his face to split into a smile. The emotion didn't quite reach his eyes, and Dean imagined that much like himself Sam would be battling with emotions from their father abandoning them for a long time. Their relationship with their father would never be completely healed. Dean grunted as he stood up, and offered a hand down to the kid curled up on himself. Sam unfolded and reached up to grab his brother's hand.

Dean helped the kid up and steadied him. "At least we didn't have to play hide-and-seek again."

"I was going to. I wanted to run." Once up Dean was motherly dusting him off, but Sam didn't push him away. He'd let Dean get it out. He had scared him. "But Dad runs. 'N I didn't want to run. If there's a problem I want to face it."

Bobby glanced down at the kid and didn't bother to hide his pride. "Just don't punch the problem."


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John drinks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> by this point in the story, I had posted the chapter where Sam gets the call and cries. Someone posted about how awful John was- and another commented on how John was getting to be a bit of a jerk. I realized that wasn't how I intended John to be. When I wrote the universe was so obvious to me. I knew what John was going through and what he was doing, but none of my readers did. So the first section is thanks to the person who reminded me that John is a person who has flaws.

He remembered everything, and it was painful. Her smile. Her laugh. Even her scowl whenever he got a little too sloshed and returned home entirely too late. He would never forget that summer in 1975 when the blond had crossed his path when he was heading towards the local diner. He'd already eaten that day, but he'd be damned if he let the woman out of his sight. He'd never admit it later, but she approached him first. He was prepared to walk away and there she was standing next to his booth, asking if he was going to buy her desert or not.

February 1979 they got married. She had lost her parents tragically and it took them a while to feel like tying the knot wouldn't be a form of disrespect to the parent's memory. They had taken a honeymoon to the Grand Canyon. Rather than lounging by some pool, the couple chose to go the romantic route; rafting. After a rough swell the raft flipped. Had it not been for her, he would have been dead. She saved his hide that day; and he repaid her by giving her the first born son that evening.

Winter 1980 his mother had died. Millie had never remarried after the disappearance of her husband, and save the sparing visits from her son there was really no visitors. He felt guilty about the time he hadn't spent with her and from there started drinking. She had disapproved; nagged him constantly that their son didn't want his daddy coming home drunk. He was getting better, he was drinking less. When his youngest son was announced he stopped for good, save the occasional beer.

Then the fire, and just like that she was gone. After eight years, the spunky girl he'd met in the diner was dead. All that was left of her was the trailing smoke, and the two quivering bundles he held firmly in his arms. That soot covered night he had downed an entire case in their motel room.

John took a deep breath in between several gulps of his beer and slammed down a half emptied bottle. God he missed her. Every breath and every shot he thought about his wife. After taking in a few more breaths he lifted the bottle back up again.

God He missed his boys. Dean was such a confident boy. Even if he didn't choose to go down the path his father did Dean would make a fine, strong, practical man. And Sam. Although he didn't view the kid any less he was vastly different than his big brother. Sam was smart, brave, and stubborn to a boot. And he had those damn sensitive hazel eyes. It was almost like Mary had made a duplicate her, but Sam wasn't her. It wasn't fair to the kid but every time he looked at his boy he saw Mary. So he started drinking more.

He raised the boys on motel rooms and training. They had to be prepared. They had to know what was out there; what could happen. A few times they would play around, but the older they got the number of times John was _daddy_ had diminished. Until he wasn't daddy anymore. He had become John. The boys drill sergeant.

The bottle came back down empty. He took a second for another breath and motioned the bartender to give him another.

What he'd done was selfish and stupid. He thought he would call Bobby up and see how the boys were doing. They were obviously going to be fine. The only ones who had coddled his boys in their later years were the men he'd felt safe leaving them with. The list was small and limited to two. Pastor Jim, and Bobby. Bobby would be perfect with the boys. Why had he even thought to call?

Then Sam answered the phone. He was already not thinking straight with his empty flask bouncing in his pocket. It had startled him. He didn't know what to do. The kid with his _nerd brain_ as Dean fondly called it, had figured out the awkward silence on the other line was from his father. Then the kid continued to talk, and spill out his heartfull wish to be a family on Christmas. John choked up a little inside. He wasn't father material. Sure he was a donor he wasn't their father. Why would Sam want him for Christmas?

The beer was uncapped and placed in front of him with a terse order of _last one_. John didn't pay the man any mind. He scooped up the bottle and placed it to his lips.

Then he had the gall, to apologize and hang up. There the kid was hoping for something more and all he got was a weak sorry and dial tone. If he hadn't already proven he wasn't father material, he certainly had now.

Why was he such a failure? Why couldn't he do anything right? Why was it so hard to be a father to those boys?

The familiar sounds of the bar came back to him when a calloused hand landed on his shoulder. John didn't look up. He kept staring down at the bottle like it was going to save him from the encounter.

"Hey, John."

He knew that voice. Bill Harvelle. Man was nice. Ran a bar (John liked those), and occasionally hunted. John recalled two or three hunts, where Harvelle had jumped in to help. The man was hours away from his home though. Why was he here?

Maybe the man could read minds because he started again with the answer. "Hey, funny running into you here. I was helping out in a hunt a few minutes away and thought I'd stop by and see a friend of mine." The stool next to John creaked as Harvelle put his weight on it. "Chad. He runs this hole in the wall."

John didn't look up. John didn't say anything. He felt exposed. His soul was bruised and battered from the emotional battle he'd been having. He wasn't in the mood for a talk. He wasn't in the mood to be pitied.

Once again the damn hand landed on his shoulder. John wanted it off.

"I heard you've been drinking quite a bit." There it was the concerned tone. John wanted to punch the sympathetic look he imagined Bill was wearing. "You have a motel room? You want me to drive you back?"

John's grief was slowly turning to anger. All he wanted was to be left alone. Thanks to the unhealthy levels of alcohol in his system he felt his anger rise drastically and start to boil in his blood. Bill needed to leave him alone, now. "I'm fine, Harvelle. Just trying to drink alone."

Either he hadn't caught the hint or he didn't care, but Bill Harvelle stayed where he was. "Don't you think you should head back to Bobby's? Or at least call? My girls went down to Singer's for Thanksgiving and the boys seem to miss you quite a-"

"No!" Unknowing to him everything at the bar stopped. The only sound that seemed to continue was the Lynyrd Skynyrd song playing softly from the ancient jukebox. A few men even stood up to stop an anticipated fight. "So help me Bill, you don't leave me alone-"

Bill didn't back off. "John, they love you. You don't want your boys growing up without a father."

"NO!" John stood up suddenly spilling what was left of his precious beer. Before Bill could anticipate the move John drove his fist into the man's face. To John everything went in slow motion. He saw the fist drive into the side of Harvelle's face and the man's skin vibrate from the hard blow. Spit and blood flew in small droplets from Bill's mouth from the assault as the man flew backward off the stool. "I'm not going back!"

John fought at hands gripping his arms and chest holding him back from attacking the man. But John wasn't going to continue on beating the man. He just wanted to be left alone. For the stupid, stubborn, son of a bitch to realize he wasn't going back to ruin those kids lives. "They don't need me. They're better off with him. I'm not worthy of taking care of those boys!"

John was vaguely aware of the bartender yelling for him to be kicked out, but his main focus was on the man he'd downed. Bill started sitting up collecting himself with the help of a few of the strangers in the bar.

The order to have him out was repeated, and John felt the tangle of bodies around him start to prod him forward. John squirmed in their hold. "They don't need me, Bill! They hate me!"

The door was open and John was flung through to the gravel outside, but the door didn't close. A few of the men stood in the doorway looking imposing. John rolled from his side to his stomach and collected his breathe.

After a few minutes the men seemed content John wasn't going to make any move to go back in. All but one turned around to go back into the bar.

John heard rather than saw the man spitting in his direction. "You're right. Your boys don't need an angry drunk like you." As if to offer a final offense the door was slammed, leaving John in the silence of the night.

"They don't need me." John repeated. The next time his voice was cracked, and desperate. "They don't need me."

**< <<>>>**

Bobby wondered why he had so many phones sometimes. It would be a lot easier on him if he had one phone just like normal people. It would be a lot easier if he didn't have so many friends in the hunting community needing help from his fake aliases in the government and state departments. If they didn't call all hours of the damn night trying to get information on whatever it was they were trying to kill.

He sneaked out a hand to the offending ringing phone and grabbed up the only line he'd connect to the ones in the kitchen. His freaking personal line. Because even hunters needed to call him at four in the damn morning.

"Mmm." He didn't bother giving a greeting.

_"Singer?"_ The voice sounded familiar but Bobby's sleep addled mind couldn't put together who it was.

"Probably. I'll be more sure in the morning." He grumbled rolling over and sitting up. "What do you need?"

There was a short bit of silence. _It's Bill Harvelle."_

Bobby grunted and rubbed at his shadow. "Bill, missed you at Thanksgiving. Ellen said that you usually are busiest at holidays so you stayed behind to run the bar."

_"Yeah, there's quite a bit of drinking during the holidays._ " His voice held a curious tone. _"Speaking of drinking, I just ran into uh- John."_

That peaked Bobby's interest. What was the dumb ass up to now? "He give you trouble?"

_"No more than I deserved. He was out of it, and giving me clear warning signs. I chose to push it. Anyways just thought you should know. He was in Darby."_

Darby, Montana. Bobby had been up there once to stop a troll. "He's already gone?"

_"Yeah. I gave the message you've been sending out. Head back to the house, or give you a call. He didn't take it too kindly. I think Ellen's going to kill me when I get home."_ He gave a dry chuckle. _"Anyways just thought you should know."_

"Thanks." Bobby grunted. "And Bill."

_"Yeah?"_

"Get some ice on that face of yours. Unless you want to look uglier than you already are." Bobby chuckled.

It didn't startle the man on the line that Bobby figured he'd been hit in the face. Winchester had a nasty right hook, and wasn't afraid to use it. _"Got it."_

The call disconnected and Bobby gave a sharp grunt as he put the phone back down on the cradle. So Sam picking up the line that evening must have spooked him. Bobby had underestimated the boys role in John's life. They weren't just there to tuck him into bed and make sure he got something to eat with that alcohol. They were his sanity, and without them he didn't sound like he was doing to well.

****

<<<>>>

****

**  
**

Bobby making breakfast that morning had seemed deep in thought. They had come downstairs only to find a rather large map of the United States with circled cities, arrows, and dates. Before they could read exact words Bobby had the map folded up and hastily put away. Dean imagined he was following his father's steps. Bobby's red rimmed eyes told a story of just how long he'd been awake. As he plated Sam's pancakes and the boy excitedly smothered the food in butter and syrup, Bobby threw Sam a curious look.

"So how is Mr. Robinson doing?" Despite trying to keep his tone neutral Dean picked up on the cautiousness in his question.

The usually perceptive Sam was too invested in the food to notice Bobby's prodding. "MMM, uh. Mr. Robinson was sick." Sam took another sticky bite narrowly avoiding to get syrup on his bandaged hand. "He's not been feeling well for a while. My English teacher says he's not been himself lately."

"You know this Mr. Robinson?" Dean asked.

"Uh, not personally." Bobby muttered putting his warm pan back on the oven.

"Bobby…" Dean growled. Something was bothering him, and if this something was somehow tied to Sam then it was something he needed to know.

Sam suddenly picked up on the mood in the room. "What's going on?"

"Yeah, Bobby. What's going on?" Dean echoed pointedly.

The man turned from the boys a second and rubbed at his hair. "Well, I went to pick up Sam from school before our hunt and I felt something weird."

"Weird?" Sam questioned.

"Hunters intuition." Bobby shrugged. "Something felt, wrong. You were talking to this blond teacher and I wanted to jump out and protect you from him. I took you to and from school to check out the guy and see if the feelings returned."

Dean tensed and his food sat forgotten. Intuition was something that hunters relied on. It wasn't always one hundred percent but it was a useful tool. If Bobby had flagged this guy as something dangerous then he wasn't playing around. "Did the feelings return?"

"No, but like Sam mentioned he started looking sickly. I can't tell you whether or not he's something or got something, but I felt it." Bobby looked over at Dean. "And don't get mad, I was trying to double check that I'm not being a paranoid hunter."

"I'm not." Dean was a little too quiet.

Poor trusting Sam was confused. "Mr. Robinson didn't seem bad. I mean he was a little aggressive when he tried to sell me on the club, but I didn't see him being bad." Sam got quiet. "He did change though. When I first met him, all he did was try and sell me on the academic club, but then-"

Dean despised the pause. "Then…"

"I dunno. He started asking me questions, lots of questions about where I came from. I gave him a version of the truth. We lived with dad, and dad traveled a lot for his job. Just recently dad had given Bobby custody of us to give us some stability." Sam stared at the pancakes appetite lost as he pieced together just how strange his teacher had been. How had he not noticed something was wrong? "But then he wanted to know what dad did, and where we had been. Then he got kinda- kinda scared."

"Scared?" Bobby prodded.

"Yeah, about the time you started coming back around, he changed again. He became a little jittery, and always had a cup of coffee. It was getting so bad that he was dropping the chalk when he was in the middle of class. Rick thought maybe he was on drugs. I couldn't get him to talk to me after that. It was like he was going out of his way to avoid me. I just thought maybe he was sick, or maybe something was happening at home. That he was…I dunno- drinking. He seemed kinda drunk to me." Sam looked up. "You think he was- something?"

"Don't know." Bobby grunted. His mind turning with this new information. "But I can't just dismiss how I felt. Something was wrong with him that day. I was ready to protect you from him." He cursed as Sam's eyes grew wide. "Now, don't go actin' scared in school now. If I really need to we can claim you caught the flu, and get you out for a week while I find out what's what, but let me look for him first. You know anything else on the guy."

Sam shrugged. "I didn't exactly exchanged phone numbers with him. But when Ms. Evans told us he was sick she called him Pete. I didn't even know his first name before then"

"Hey, don't worry kid. I can work with that. I'll be looking for a Pete Robinson, an algebra teacher at Memorial Middle School." Bobby glanced up at the clock. "You two need to think about finishing up your breakfast. I do want you going to school this morning."

In his own first period Algebra class with his biggest fan Ms. Davey, his mind went to Sam once again and how his kid brother was faring. As usual Ms. Davey didn't call on him anymore. She loved to pick on him and make him seem stupid when he wasn't trying, but now that he was making an effort in school she couldn't seem to stump him. Anytime he was leaning over and chatting up Cassie just a seat over she would ask him what she had just said, or if he could come to the board and work a problem. It used to work in making him look dumb, now he picked up on the concept quickly and responded without problem. All Dean had to do now in class was finish his homework, turn it in a pass a few tests. Maybe even a ignore a few glares sent his way. Easy.

He seemed to float through the day not really paying anything real mind. Even when Cassie joined him at his table and chatted with him during lunch he gave it half of his heart. The girl seemed to notice and backed off. Part of him couldn't care that he'd been working on her for a while. She came off as standoffish when he first started, and had just begun to warm up to him. He may have just lost his chance. But a relationship with Cassie seemed suddenly so pale and trivial compared to whatever problems Sam may be going through.

What was he thinking? Dean berated himself. One strange teacher, one strange incident and here he was thinking Sam was lying dead on the floor of whatever AP nerd class he was in. The kid besides being smart, was tough as nails. He was a Winchester. He could certainly handle himself.

That stayed on repeat in his head tamping down the panic until once again he heard the final bell ring and he was done with school. He beat everyone out of the school and into the parking lot where his precious Baby sat glistening in the sun. The kid had been out of school an hour already. If Bobby was still out there searching for their suspicious teacher then Sam was still by himself sitting out by the school. Once again he wrestled his way through the after school traffic and made the short drive to the middle school. Sam was there waiting his nose in a library book. Dean had to honk Baby's horn to get the kids attention.

The kid seemed fine. The emotional turmoil from the other day didn't appear to cause the kid any problems today as he shut the book and rushed over to the classic car. The door creaked open and closed as Sam situated himself inside. "Hey Dean!"

"Hey." Dean kept his voice light as well. "Anyone give you crap today on the knuckles?"

"My friends asked, but I just told them I got mad. Apparently now I'm the hulk, because I smash things." Sam laughed.

Dean shook his head. "I'm half ashamed I didn't come up with that."

Sam shared a smile with Dean, until concern slowly weaseled its way to the boy's face. "Has Bobby called with any new information?"

"Nope. Sorry, runt. Maybe once we make it to the house." Dean shared his brother's apprehension.

Bobby wasn't back when Sam and Dean made it home. The Chevelle was still gone, and the stuffiness of the house told of the man's absence since he had left that morning. Sam and Dean fought back nervousness and settled to finish homework, and make enough dinner for three. Finally around seven Bobby's engine could be heard entering the lot.

Sam leapt up from the table his book that he hadn't actually been reading was dropped as he rushed to meet Bobby at the door. He had the door opened before Bobby even had his car door closed. Besides looking beat the man seemed fine. He shuffled past Sam into the house and into the kitchen where he dropped tiredly onto the chair.

Tamping down the desire to demand answers, Dean offered the man dinner. He took Bobby's grunt as a yes and placed his plate into the microwave. Dean even uncapped a beer from the fridge and placed in front of the man. Bobby met Dean's eyes in appreciation.

After Bobby took a long drink from the beer Sam couldn't take it anymore. He had to know. "What did you find out?" The older Winchester, and his uncle were startled by the outburst. "Did you find him? Is he okay? Is he not himself?"

Bobby took another long drink before meeting Sam's eyes. "I couldn't find him. I kept asking around town. Even checked with the local PD, about his potential whereabouts."

"What had happened?" Dean asked. He knew there was more to the story.

"His wife is dead. She's been stabbed, and his house reeks of sulfur."


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A super fluffy christmas. So much fluff. (Funny how this chapter happens to align perfectly with december...)

Sam couldn't believe it. Sulfur implied one thing and unfortunately it was not in any of their favor. It meant demon and demon wasn't good. Mr. Robinson being one made it practically worse. He hadn't known the man long, but his students had talked about how his wife was expecting. The father was very excited to have a baby. Now he had nothing. No wife and no kid, probably destroyed by his own hand. "Mr. Robinson was possessed? I never-" Sam paused, floundering for a second. "I should have noticed. There would have been signs."

"You couldn't have known." Bobby attempted to comfort but didn't move from the table. The lack of sleep from the night before, and the activity during the day hadn't done him any good. "They are really great at weaseling their way in and seeming normal. They can mask their smell. Usually apply an overabundance of perfume or cologne."

Bobby saw the wheels in the boy's head turn.

"A week after I started school, kids started complaining he smelled like the Macy's perfume department." Sam darted his head back and forth between the two men. "I just thought he had anosmia." At Dean's confused glance Sam sighed and expanded. "A lack of smell. It could be seasonal, or permanent."

Dean sighed and muttered nerd under his breath, before jostling the plate he'd placed in front of Bobby. "So what does that mean? Why would- why would there be a demon at Sam's school now, trailing him and asking him questions about our family?"

"I don't know. But for right now, he seems to have taken off. I have sent out the guys name and car make and model." Bobby stirred around the food with a fork. "Anyone in the hunter community catches any sight of the guy then they call me."

"Will they kill him?" Sam's voice went small.

Bobby inhaled deep and scrubbed a hand over his shadow. He saw no point in scaring the boy, but also didn't want to lie. "We'll certainly try not to. Right now, he's not himself. There are many things that we can do in order to dispel the demon in him. In the case he forces our hand we can't do much else."

The kid reacted just the way they expected. The kid had an overly large heart and felt everything.

Dean came around the table and wrapped his arms around his brother. Sam stood limp in the hold. "Hey, they'll do everything they can. Remember the motto. Saving people, hunting things. The saving part comes first because it is our biggest concern."

"But he's also a thing."

"Not by choice." Bobby said gruffly. "If we can help it then we're going to get whoever is up in him, out."

Sam remained stiff in Dean's arms. "We are supposed to be normal. Why are things following us?"

"They're not." Bobby said a little too quietly from the table. "Remember when you were oblivious to this all. The monsters were just regular men and women. They were scary, but they were normal, something you could lump together and digest easily. Now, that you can see things for what they are they appear to be following you, but they're just there. They've always been there. That's why we hunt though." Bobby corrected himself. "That's why hunters hunt. That's why we rarely retire. It's hard for us to turn a blind eye to something we know isn't just normal."

"And you're not a quitter for not wanting that." Dean muttered. The kid hadn't moved and he hadn't seen his face, but Dean knew all too well what was going through the mind of his big brained, sentimental brother. "I know what you want, and you do not need to beat yourself up for wanting that."

Sam wrapped his arms around his brother. God when did he become such a baby? It seemed like these last two months had been filled with hugs and emotional moments. "You could be out there taking care of things that would destroy other families. I could be out there helping."

"Nope. Don't do this. I will always be there to make sure that you are safe. From now to when you need adult diapers. And I like it here. I got this girl I've been pursuing, and my first period teacher is so fun to screw with. She keeps trying to make me look dumb and I keep showing just how damn smart I am under all these bursting muscles. I don't have to scrimp and save for new parts for my Baby. Bobby has a shit ton of junkers with just what I need here." Dean tightened the hold. "I also got you. You have never been happier. And you wanna know something. That makes me happier too."

Sam stayed quiet but Dean knew his baby brother was absorbing the words.

"And do you think that us out of the game means that hunters like Bobby, and Rufus have no hope? Just because we got out, doesn't mean that the war has been lost. There are plenty of guys out there fighting. Don't you think for one second that you are being selfish."

Despite the comforting words Dean knew that the little wheels in his brother's head were still turning out self detrimental words. "'M Kay."

As much as Dean wanted to continue to comfort his brother he knew that nothing he said now would help. The smart kid had to work everything out in his head, and hopefully that would be sooner rather than later.

xxxOOOxxx

It hadn't taken long for word to get out. After all a missing husband with a dead expecting wife was big news, in an otherwise quiet town. Rumor cycled through and suddenly the kind and loving man was remembered in a whole new light by some. His eyes had been small and beady, only murders had those kind of eyes. Or He had been a little too nice, of course there was something more sinister deeper in his heart. Soon the town was divided. Either he had killed his wife and was on the run, or he himself had been killed in an attack, his body hidden.

Whatever anyone thought was hardly helping Sam, who was having a hard time sleeping without nightmares. Although Sam wouldn't talk about what he saw Dean would constantly hear him mumble or scream about his lost teacher and glowing yellow eyes. An hour after Sam finally fell asleep Dean would have to tug up the tangled blankets and crawl into his little brother's bed. Bobby often caught the older boy firmly holding his little brother, both boys sleeping peacefully.

Finally Bobby had enough. He was ready for the kid to get out of his funk. After a quick stare at his calendar Bobby became painfully aware of just how close Christmas actually was. Despite all the time he spent with the boys even before he gained legal custody of them, they had never spent a Christmas together. Maybe a Fourth of July or a birthday, but never a family themed holiday. There never had been need to go all out. Thanksgiving brought the meal, then Christmas would bring a tree.

Even Dean was confused when after school Bobby shoved his boys to his Ford and piled them in. Usually the old man wanted them to complete homework before anything else. During the drive over Sam tried to weasel out where they were going but Bobby held fast until he parked the truck in front of the large tent. Sam's eyes boggled at the sign posted claiming that there was an abundance of Christmas Trees inside.

"We're getting a Christmas Tree?" Sam's voice pitched higher as his excitement rose. If Sam had been excited to see the table full of food for Thanksgiving, then the kid was pretty damn near close to exploding now. The heaviness of their failed search for Mr. Robinson seemed to melt off the boy's shoulder in a second. Both men were happy to see the kid acting like a kid.

"It is almost Christmas right? What kind of holiday would it be without?" Bobby chuckled and exited the car.

Since Dean wasn't getting out quick enough Sam scrambled over the bench seat out Bobby's side and ignoring his family, into the tent. Bobby and Dean remained close on the boy's heels. Inside they found Sam darting from tree to tree. Excitedly Sam waved a hand at a towering ten foot tree, and Bobby had to shake his head. His ceiling was nowhere near that tall. Finally Sam reached the back of the expansive tent and called to his family. Bobby and Dean stopped inspecting a good sized douglas when they heard the call and rounded the corner to where Sam stood crouched next to a barely there little tree. It was small. Smaller than the kid and a few of the branches were broken, and missing. As far as trees went this wasn't pretty.

Finally the kid popped up from his crouch and grinned wide. "I like it."

"Are you kidding?" Dean gaped amazed. "There are tons of trees here."

Sam shrugged and poked his palm with the top of the tree. "It won't take much to decorate, and I think if we decorated it right it could look nice." The kid stepped back and cocked his head to the side. "Yeah, I like it."

"What about that one?" Dean pointed to a large tree, one that would barely stand in the living room. "It's nice and big, and it has plenty of branches."

Sam firmly shook his head. "I like this one."

Dean opened his mouth to mock his little brother, but Dean held up a hand. "Why do you want this tree, Sam? This little tree out of every other one here."

Sam once again gave the tree a hard look. "I dunno. It reminds me of home."

Confusion sat on Dean's face until it faded into a warm smile. Dean always tried to get a tree for Christmas. Usually the tree lots would sell the ugly ones cheap, and Dean would wind string, imitating a string of lights, and poke holes in colorful beer bottle caps and tie off a loop through them for ornaments. It wasn't much but it worked. Sam always lit up seeing that stupid looking tree. Now out of every tree in the freaking lot, Sam was going for the one that Dean would get to please his little brother. Once again the damn kid was choking him up. Stupid Sam.

"We don't have to get this one. I only got them because that was the best I could get." Dean said quietly. His hand crawled up and gripped his amulet firmly.

Sam shook his head again and set his jaw stubbornly. "I. Like. It. I always loved our trees and our Christmases." Sam rushed forward and buried his face in Dean's chest hugging him. "Please Dean."

Puppy dog eyes glanced up and Dean groaned as he tried to break their controlling spell. Dean used the hand not wrapped around his little brother's shoulder wound a hand through his hair. "Seriously, Sam. You're not five and that doesn't work anymore." Finally though Dean had enough and broke eye contact. "Fine, I concede. What do you think about the tree, Uncle Bobby?"

"I say it's perfect. How much." Bobby chuckled, his eyes suspiciously damp.

Sam glanced around at the tree looking for a similar tag that was attached to the others. "I don't see a tag. Lemmie ask someone." Before the kid could be stopped he rushed down back through the maze of trees looking for anyone who worked there.

"You two princesses were tugging at my heart strings." Bobby laughed heartedly, crouching down to inspect the tree himself.

Dean shoved another hand through his hair. "Shut up. I don't instigate these things, the runt does."

"Sure." Bobby drew out the word and chuckled when Dean scowled. The hunter didn't miss Dean's hand raise and clutch the amulet around his neck though. The only thing that could turn Dean Winchester into a sap was Sam. He would have hated to see the boy if his brother hadn't survived that night.

They stood around for a few minutes inspecting other trees and grimacing at prices on the ones that wouldn't fit in Bobby's home, when Sam's excited voice sounded closer. A second later the kid appeared, walking with a sour faced man.

"That one!" Sam exclaimed happily and pointed at the ugly little tree.

The man raised an eyebrow and glanced down at Sam. "That's the super, fantastic, amazing tree you were telling me about?!"

Bobby gave a bark of laughter at the description Sam had obviously given in his excitement.

The kid didn't seem too fazed by the man's incredulousness. "Mm hmm. See look!" Sam rushed towards the tree. "If you put lights up then the whole tree will be lit up, and this bare spot all you gotta do is put an ornament in the middle of the empty space."

The man turned his head the same way Sam had before. "I guess. I was just going to throw her out."

Once again Sam firmly shook his head, waving around the crazy mop of hair. "Please don't do that!"

"We'll pay for it." Bobby jumped in. "I was expecting to purchase a tree today anyways."

In a fashion much more similar to Bobby's the man swept off his cap and wiped a hand over his bald head. "Well, I'll tell you what. I need to get rid of that thing, and since you want it so badly, you can have it." The man allowed a smile to cross his face finally when Sam's face nearly split in excitement.

Dean was speechless. Women would turn into puddles at his feet with just a look, but Sam could charm anyone. Damn kid walked away getting free food at diners, and even got the owner at one of the bed and breakfasts they stayed at to make him an entire pot of stew when he had gotten a cold.

"Really!" Sam burst out. For someone who wanted didn't want to be treated like a kid, he could sure act like one.

Bobby was a little shocked by the gift himself. "Really?" He mirrored Sam's comment with a little more reluctance.

"Yeah." He composed his face once again and replaced the cap. "Let me just get some netting and we'll get you guys sorted."

The man left but came back in a timely manner and with the help of Bobby had the tree wrapped up in the netting. Together he and Bobby hefted up the small tree and trudged towards the ancient Ford. All the while Sam asked about the man's Christmas plans, and grinned in excitement when the man smiled wide and informed the boy that his own son was expecting a child. They were having a little boy as well. Bobby and Dean watched the exchange as Sam turned the serious man into a grinning fool as he explained where his son lived and when the baby was due. Dean was a little taken aback at just how much power Sam had. The kid could turn any situation positive. He remembered his mother being the same way.

"Well." The man grunted and collected himself after noticing he was being carefully watched by the other two men. "You're all set to go. If you go looking for a tree again, you gotta come see what ugly little tree we have next year."

"Of course." Bobby grinned and shook the man's hand firmly. "Thank you again."

"Oh it was nothing." The man returned the firm grip. "Just make sure that kid enjoys his Christmas." With that he cleared his throat and turned around only glancing back when Sam called out and waved.

Sam's grin didn't die down on the ride back home. Neither did it when Bobby and Dean finally wrestled the little tree into the living room and onto a stand. From a closet in one of the spare bedrooms upstairs Bobby produced a dusty box labeled kitchen. Opened though it boasted an old string of lights and colored glass ornaments. Sam gently raised one of the ornaments up and lit up himself as the light from the ceiling fan broke through the glass and colored the floor.

"They're awesome, Uncle Bobby!"

"Yeah." He glanced down at the ornaments a little bitter sweet. The last time they had seen the light of day was his last Christmas with his wife. "They are aren't they."

"Do the lights still work?" Dean questioned as he dragged out the wound up cord. He plugged them in the wall and checked each bulb before unplugging them again. "Yeah, looks like they are good to go."

The rest of the evening was spent gently wrapping lights around the pitiful tree, and hanging the ornaments up, trying to hid the bald spots among the foliage. Finally they stepped back and had to admire their handiwork. For an ugly little tree it didn't look too bad all dressed up. Bobby handed down the little angel topper and Sam proudly placed the blond angel on the top of the tree with ease.

"See it's pretty." Sam chirped. "'N now we have an angel watching over us."

Dean coughed and choked at that comment. He hadn't said it before, and Sam couldn't have remembered his mother saying it. After he composed himself Dean broke into a grin to hide the emotions playing on his face as he glanced down at the blond angel. "I dunno Sam, I'd say she's looking up at us."

****

<<<>>>

****

****  


The kid seemed to shine brighter with every day leading up to Christmas. Using the amount he'd saved with his allowance Sam had the first of the gifts purchased and wrapped under the tree, using the traditional Winchester wrapping paper; Sunday comics. There weren't much and Dean didn't imagine they'd be much more than the lame cheap gas station trinkets they exchanged every year, but Dean didn't mind. Anything the kid gave him he would love.

Dean's own gifts were added under the tree, wrapped in the same Sunday comics. And Bobby's were the last to go under. His appeared more Christmas like after he'd found some old brittle Santa themed wrapping paper from a closet upstairs. The stack didn't get too high under their tiny tree. But none of them minded much. The gifts, despite putting thought behind them, were more ceremonial than anything else.

Christmas Day came with an angry shout and a loud scuffle from upstairs. Once again clad in an undershirt and in his Santa boxers Bobby startled awake at the sound. He held his breath at the sounds of grunts and cries coming from the boys room. The noise didn't die down as he shouted and rushed up the stairs two at a time. He jerked their shared room open his heart beat pounding in his ears.

Then slumped to the doorway, fear giving way to exhaustion and annoyance.

Sam remained under his brother struggling to breath as he laughed uncontrollably and tried to fend off his older brother. Dean appeared angry and smeared what Bobby assumed was shaving cream into the boys face and hair. Dean's own face was coated in white and a cheap feather duster was discarded on the ground.

"Yeah, funny huh runt. Let's play a dumb prank on Christmas fucking morning. Merry Christmas brat!"

"Boys…" Bobby finally caught their attention. "You are going to be the end of me. My heart will just give out one day and it'll be all your fault."

Dean's mood switched from anger to disgust as he made note of Bobby and just how undressed he was. "Once again Bobby, why do you have Santa boxers?"

"Well you wouldn't have to see what theme boxers I have if you two didn't wake me up with your stupid fighting." Bobby grumbled running a tired hand across his eyes. "Whatever, I'm making pancakes. Why don't you two clean up and meet me downstairs."

Dean got off his little brother and scowled down at him. "I'm taking first shower and good luck getting any warm water, bitch."

Sam continued laughing but inhaled sharply and spoke between the laughter. "I took one last night, Jerk."

Dean didn't respond. He deepened his scowl and stomped out.

Bobby watched the boy retreat and let a smile wipe away any exhaustion off his face the second Dean was in the bathroom. "You get him good."

"Got him bad." Sam inhaled harshly again. "You should have seen his expression when he smashed the shaving cream down on his face." He wiped off a large bit of shaving cream on his own faces. "So worth it."

"You can clean up in my bathroom downstairs." Bobby chuckled helping the kid get up. "Don't bother changing out of your PJ's, we'll just be lounging around the house today."

"Yeah, but I'd suggest some kind of pants, Uncle Bobby." Sam chuckled and Bobby grinned back giving the boy a shove.

Dean was the first done and joined Bobby downstairs in the kitchen. He unconsciously helped Bobby prep for breakfast and pulled out the packet of bacon from the fridge. Sam joined a little later and grinned at his brother who good naturedly shoved Sam towards the kitchen table and told him to pour them some orange juice.

The conversation during breakfast was a careful balance of discussing school while avoiding the topic of Sam's AWOL teacher. Although Sam had been doing a lot better, neither Bobby or Dean wanted that topic back up, especially on Christmas. Dean instead diverted the conversation to a girl in school. Brunette, gorgeous, and annoying. Dean had stopped perusing Cassie, and was now after Carmen Porter. Sam just rolled his eyes and took a bit of bacon off Dean's plate.

After breakfast the boys completed the dishes while Bobby prepped the living room for opening their presents. When the last of the dishes were done, Nat King Cole was singing from the cassette player and stockings had been hung over the fireplace. Bobby's was old and stained, smelling of dust, but Sam and Dean's were crisp and white. The puffed paint was barely legible but the boys got the point.

Their stockings were tugged off the nails and they sat next to their little tree munching on off brand chocolate.

From there presents were exchanged. From Sam, Bobby received a Greek dictionary to help with one of the tomes he was in the middle of translating. From Dean, he got a new breaker bar to replace the one that had disappeared from the tool box. Sam got a paperback of Moby Dick in Spanish (in which on the title page Dean challenged him to complete) and a box of Lucky Charms. Bobby gave Sam a book titled Japanese for beginners. When prodded Sam had Bobby speak a few lines of the language. Dean got a skin mag (Bobby wasn't mad, more curious how the twelve year old was able to purchase it) and the Cult Classic album from Blue Oyster Cult. Bobby was unable to stop Dean from switching out Nat King Cole for the classic rock, not that he really minded. From Bobby, Dean got new steel toed boots. Bobby ended the gift exchange with new jackets for the boys; fleece on the inside and canvas on the outside.

Although their piles were small the little family admired their gifts.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean makes a new friend.

She approached him. Sure he'd winked, grinned, and would talk her way, but she hadn't shown any interest. In fact she'd shown no interest to any of the boys in school. She was known since freshman year as Hard-Ass Carmen. Don't even try. Yet here she was standing at his table slender hand on his shoulder talking to him. It took all Dean had to bite back his excitement and not act like a love sick girl. His face formed into a grin that could melt the pants off any one of the girls at the school.

Amusement just danced in Carmen's amber eyes. "You Winchester?"

"Yeah." Dean's grin didn't die. Man she was his dream girl. In a perfect world he'd be married to her planning to have their own little baseball team. "How can I help you?"

"Can I speak to you privately?" Her manicured hand didn't move. Dean didn't want it to.

Ryan had stopped eating entirely. His entire group of friends had frozen at the sight of Hard-Ass Carmen at their table, and talking to Dean. It was unfathomable. She never sought out anyone for any reason.

"Uh, yeah." Dean's grin widened. Meal forgotten Dean got off the table a little uncoordinated and followed Carmen to the doors of the cafeteria. He ignored several glances being thrown his way by his friends and peers. When the doors shut behind them Dean poked up an eyebrow. "Sooo, what can I do you for?"

"First, drop the whole smooth act." Carmen snorted. "I seriously didn't ask you out here for a make out session so get that out of your mind."

Dean's grin dropped. "Why am I out here with you then?" His tone lost its smoothness, but it didn't get any less polite.

Carmen crossed her arms and frowned. After a quick glance on either direction sighed. "Ms. Davey says that you are really good at algebra."

At this Dean was sure that this was some dream. Carmen even talking to him. Ms. Davey acknowledging that he was good at anything. The only thing missing was the usual parade of scantily clad women holding pies. "Oh, okay. So Ms. Davey said that I was good in algebra…"

"Yeah, she did. A little reluctantly, she also said that you're a cocky little shit."

"Now, that's the Ms. Davey I know and love." Dean smirked. "I was a little scared she was going soft."

Carmen sighed, and Dean imagined his lips on hers. God he had it bad. "Look, I'm apparently going to have to spell it out for you. I am not doing well. I need a tutor and when asked Ms. Davey said that you would be the one she would suggest to tutor me. Apparently you are passing with flying colors and a little effortlessly."

"Why do you care so much about algebra?" Dean quirked up an eyebrow.

"Why the fuck do you even care?" Carmen matched his cocked eyebrow with one of her own and rested more weight on her left foot tilting her left hip. "All I wanna do is get the hell out of this school with a degree. Failing classes will not help me with my plans."

"Plans?" Dean frowned.

"Look. Will you tutor me or not?" Carmen's hands went on those hips of hers.

Dean grinned wide again. "Yeah sure. I could tutor you. Where were you thinking?"

"Either of our places. My aunt and uncle don't bother me so we'd have plenty of time." Carmen rolled her eyes at Dean's sudden bedroom eyes. "Plenty of time to study! Whatever you just thought; no!"

Dean shrugged. "Okay. I can meet you at your place, or if you need you could always come by my place." Dean was amazed at how easily he claimed possession of Bobby's house. He was gaining a lot of comfort there. "Although you'd have to deal with Sam and Bobby."

Something shifted in Carmen's face. Dean hadn't been aware of his gaze softening at the mention of his brother. She had though. "Who is Sam?"

"Little brother. Annoying as hell." Dean shrugged. "Anyways when do you want to start?"

"The sooner the better." Carmen insisted firmly. "I need to pass, and I was just given some extra credit work. So after school, my place."

Dean's excitement grew. He hadn't disregarded that this wasn't a dream yet. "Yeah, sure. I might be a little late. I gotta pick up Sam from school and take him home, but I can meet you afterwards."

"Your mom can't pick him up?"

"No."

Once again Dean didn't realized just how much emotion he allowed through. Carmen's own gaze softened. "Okay." She slipped out a paper from her pocket and slipped it into Dean's hand. "I will see you later then." She gave him one last look and entered the cafeteria.

A multitude of emotions coursed through him. Mostly he was excited. With this new update he had a huge chance at getting Carmen. A huge part of him was trying to convince himself it was just inside the girl's pants. Yeah, there was nothing more.

He entered the cafeteria a little later still shell shocked. After sitting down his friends berated him. What did she want? What did she do?

Dean baked up some lie about a project she was getting advice on. Why did he care though? Dean Winchester, who had already done the deed with one in the janitor closet and blatantly had a make out session with the number two hot cheerleader, was protecting Carmen Porter's dignity.

His friends bought the lie easily. If anything had happened the Winchester was all too quick to divulge his conquests.

School ended with Dean Winchester still confused. As he fought his way through after school traffic he turned up his tunes to block out the thoughts. Sam read him like a book though when he slid into the seat.

"What's wrong?" The kid looked worriedly at his brother.

A cool grin easily slipped on his face. "Whaddya mean?"

"Are you going to tell me, or just play it off until I find out later?" Sam huffed aggravated.

"Don't know what you're talking about, Sammy." Dean started towards the exit and headed towards home ignoring the blistering glare from his brother. "Hey runt, I uh- I gotta do a project with a friend. So I'm dropping you off at the house."

Sam's irritated expression gave way to understanding. "This is like a friend friend? You know. Like one of your female friends."

"She is female, yes." Dean muttered. He gripped the wheel.

Sam notched up an eyebrow. "Is she not pretty?"

"She is beautiful." Dean answered a little defensively.

"Oh, okay." Sam muttered. "Sooo- what's the matter?"

Dean stopped at the light and looked down at Sam a little irritated. "I already said nothing was wrong."

"Is she not putting out?" Sam pressed.

Dean sighed and tightened his hand on the wheel. "God Sam! Why does that have to be a problem? What if I just wanna go over and help her with- finish a project with a girl. Not everything about a beautiful girl means that I have to try and bang her. Geeze."

Sam jerked back a little in shock at the outburst. He watched as Dean tried to compose himself. Finally Sam grinned. "You totally like her."

Dean snorted. "I like a lot of girls."

"Nooo, I mean you _like her_ like her. Like you don't wanna just make out with her, you wanna know what she's thinking. Go out on dates, and open the car door whenever she gets in and out of the car."

"I totally don't." Dean stuttered. "I mean, if I wanted to I would totally own her. I mean totally go to- Wait how do you even know the phrase putting out?"

"Right, because you never say it." Sam snorted this time. "I've not only gotten the talk from you before, but you keep showing me the pictures in your dirty mags with the instructions that if I get buff enough I can hit that. And anyways this is not what this is about. This is about you actually having feelings for someone that doesn't limit the thought process to your penis."

"SAM!"

Sam snorted again. "What mommy. Am I using bad language?"

"Look runt." Dean growled.

"You sooo like her." Sam laughed. "What's her name?"

"SAM!"

Sam didn't get discouraged by the aggravated tone. "What's her name?"

"Carmen." Dean grumbled. "'N I don't like her."

Sam balked. "The same Carmen you've been after who keeps ignoring you. Hard-Ass Carmen?"

"How do you even remember all this crap!?" Dean went red. Years later Sam would swear that Dean turned full beet red from embarrassment, and Dean would argue that he was angry and Sam was making his blood boil. "Look she needs help with algebra, and apparently, I'm brilliant so she asked me for help."

"I thought that you had a project."

Dean sighed. "Well I lied, it's tutoring."

"Why do you feel the need to lie?" Sam grinned. "Is it cuz you like her?"

"I don't-" Dean stopped and calmed himself. "I mean yeah, she's pretty, and if she wants to later then I'll totally do it with her. But that's it. There's nothing more juicy to this story."

Sam's grin didn't leave. "You mean have sex?"

"Don't say it like that." Dean insisted. Tired of this discussion Dean messed with the stations. He needed help from someone. This discussion wasn't exactly what Dean was hoping for when the runt had gotten into the Impala.

Sam pushed the power button on the radio and ignored Dean's glare. "Why not, that's what it is. That's what it always is." Sam said a little too straight forward.

Dean sighed. "Maybe I should be a little more respectful of it."

Blissfully Sam remained quiet. Dean passed a few lights until Sam spoke up again. "What color are her eyes."

"Amber." Dean said quickly. "Almost like a burning ember."

Sam sat in silence again and studied his older brother. Dean finally growled and looked at his younger brother. "What?"

"What colors was that blond cheerleader's?"

Dean shook his head. This kid was bugging him. He should have let him walk home. "What cheerleader."

Sam's grin widened. "The cheerleader you made out with in the middle of the hallway."

There was a pause as Dean put a fuzzy face to the situation. "Oh, uh, I dunno."

"You totally like her."

Dean smacked the wheel of the Impala and groaned. "God, Sam! Shut up!"

**< <<>>>**

If possible Carmen just became more and more amazing with each tutoring session. Despite not being too terribly knowledgeable about them, she was a fan of the great hair bands. Dean would bring in a few of the tapes from his car and they'd jam out to the music in her bedroom. Then it became clear that she was pretty damn smart. The conversations they would hold (though Dean would be hard pressed to admit it) were incredible. She just wasn't another pretty face, she was so much more. Reluctantly Dean had to admit to himself that his little brother was right. He _liked her_ liked her.

After the fourth visit Carmen snuck two beers upstairs to her room and the two sat on her bed draining the bottles and watched MTV. Finally Dean's curiosity grew too big to ignore.

"So what's up with your Aunt and Uncle?" Dean prodded.

Carmen choked a little on her beer. "What?"

"I mean, I show up, and they don't give two shits. Most guardians worry when a guy shows up and spends a long time in a girl's room." Dean worded carefully. Each and every time he showed up the Aunt and the Uncle would throw a casual glance and roll their eyes. There was no talk from her Uncle Paul, in fact they didn't talk at all. Not to Carmen, and definitely not to him.

"Hardly your business." Carmen bit out.

Dean focused on the current music video only partially. Finally he turned his head up towards the ceiling. "My mom died when I was four. My little brother was just six months."

Carmen stilled next to him.

"See there was a fire that had started in Sammy's room, and mom went to go save him, but…" Dean couldn't say it. She'd think he was crazy and he'd have to remind himself he wasn't. "By the time I got there dad was trying to save her. He pressed Sammy into my arms and told me to run. I did. I was so sure he'd get mom out, but he didn't. He barely made it out himself." Why exactly was he saying this anyways. Was he trying to make himself feel better or Carmen for her crappy family? "Dad wasn't the same afterwards. He wasn't abusive or nothin' but different. We would go from town to town and I was responsible for my little brother. It was tough. Dad wouldn't leave us enough money while he went on jobs, so I'd have to make due with what I had. Then when dad was finished he'd come home stone cold drunk and I'd get him to bed, take off his shoes."

Dean took a long drink from his beer.

"How did you end up here?" Carmen finally asked.

"My Uncle Bobby. He's more a family friend, but Sam 'n I just call him that. Talked to dad about us living with him and having more stability. Of course drunk, dad didn't get it, so he gave Bobby custody and ran off." Dean ignored Carmen's stricken face. "It's okay, Sam has enough food now. He has clean cloths, and doesn't have to move every week."

They both watched the channel but didn't really pay attention to whatever was going on.

"My mom was a nurse." After thirty minutes Carmen glanced down at her painted toes. "She lived in California, and worked at an ER. One day they took in a young boy in an ambulance. He had been shot. They stabilized him, but didn't realize that he was part of a gang. The rival gang showed up and there was a crazy awful shoot out. My mom was the first to go."

"Did your dad take it hard?"

Carmen snorted. "My dad, ran off when I was five. Whatever. I uh, wanted to stay in California. Mom had me with this agency and I was doing commercials. My dream then and now was to be on the big screen for real. You know my name in lights. Then when she-" Carmen choked but continued on. "There was no one to take me. My grandparents were dead, so at ten I went to go live with my aunt and uncle here." She stretched. "It's not so bad. Like you said there's no abuse, but there's no love either. I ask them for money for something, and I get it. I get hungry and they've stored the leftovers from their own meal in the fridge. I'm grateful they took me in. I could be in the system. I just feel like I'm ruining their lives by just being here"

"Is that why you have to pass?" Dean asked.

"Yeah. They're keeping me until I'm finished with high school. Then they said they'd give me a month after to get my shit together. I started saving up money when I was twelve. The second I graduate I pack up and head for California. Hopefully I can get a scholarship with one of the schools out there and not have to worry about loans."

"I'm sorry." Dean said quietly.

"Yeah, me too. About your dad I mean." Carmen said her voice no higher. "At least your Uncle Bobby wanted you."

"Yeah I just wish-" Dean stopped. He'd bled his heart out enough.

Carmen finished for him. "That your dad would have gotten over it and been a father."

Dean blinked in shock. "Yeah, something like that."

"It pisses me off. Kids walking down the hallway complaining about parents. I feel like telling them that I don't give a crap if their mom makes them eat all the vegetables on the plate, or if their dad got all bothered that a boy came over."

"I know right. Big deal, your parents got angry that you weren't doing well in school and took away TV rights." Dean snorted.

Carmen glanced appreciatively at Dean. "They just don't know what they have." Something in her tone made Dean glance down. Her amber eyes were focused on him, and Dean fought back the flush that threatened valiantly. There was a look in Carmen's eyes that Dean couldn't place. Yes, lust was defiantly there but there was an odd glowing that Dean had never seen.

Carmen reached out one of her manicured hands and pulled down Dean's head to hers. Dean startled when he felt her lips touch his. The kiss was soft and sweet. He'd never had one like that. Dean felt his breath go and it didn't return even after she had pulled away.

"I guess I won the bet then." Carmen muttered. "You do have fantastic lips."

The fight was lost and Dean went red. "What?"

"My friends all fawned over you saying you must be a great kisser." She didn't give him time to respond her hand went to pull him down and this time the kiss wasn't quite so soft.

****

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Sam was the first to know. Dean came home late the night he had asked and hadn't been able to sleep. At one point in the night Sam appeared above him with a wide grin.

"You asked her didn't you?" He pressed his older brother.

"What?" As much as he had wanted to Dean couldn't kill the grin.

Sam laughed and pounced on his brother. "Oh my God, you two are totally going out!"

"Damnit Sam!" The emotion wasn't quite angry behind his tone. It still held the same happiness that lingered after she had said yes. "You're being a girl."


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean comes to terms with his feelings, and Sam finds a new best friend.

It was all so awesome. Dean cared for Carmen and after a few tutor sessions at Bobby's house Sam and Bobby started caring for her as well. In almost an instant the Singer house became her second home. Carmen loved the atmosphere at the home and often stayed for dinner. In fact, she had been invited to Dean's Birthday dinner. It was afterwards that Carmen expressed just how awesome his surrogate father was. How much she wished she had an Uncle Bobby to step in and give her a caring home.

True to his word Dean also helped Carmen in algebra. Thanks to Dean she was pulling up her D in algebra to a solid B.

It was all going great, but Dean was shocked. Besides the fantastic make-out sessions they hadn't tried anything else. After a month of dating (because Lord help Dean he was actually counting) Dean had woken up early on a Saturday to meet Bobby in the kitchen. He had a theory and didn't like it.

Bobby sleepily set the coffee maker and sat at the table.

Dean at first was planning on waiting for Bobby to get a cup of the stuff in him first but he had to know. "Hey Bobby…do you think Carmen is a witch?"

Bobby stopped mid yawn and belly scratch. "What?"

"What on earth has your fool mind thinking that?" Bobby despite thinking the idea was ridiculous took the kid a little seriously. If there was a potential threat towards any boy he would hear him out, and potentially deal with it later.

"I don't know, It's just-" Dean had wanted to be delicate on the matter but the flood gates opened. "I can't stop thinking about her. I mean she's in my damn dreams at night. And when I'm with her I have this- this high that I can't get down from. And she's so pretty and smart and just so- so damn wonderful. I open the car door for her; I open the school door for her. Hell! I gave her my jacket. She shivered one day during lunch and I just shrugged off dad's leather, and put it on her."

Bobby sighed dramatically. "This is troubling son, tell me more."

"I dunno, I just really like her. And I never really liked anyone. I mean Dean Winchester, I once made out with a teacher." Dean frowned and cleared his throat a little distressed that he'd admitted that outloud. "She was an assistant teacher, came for a few months to uh- get some teaching experience and it was just before we started living here. Oh my God, don't tell Carmen." Dean paused. "See I care about what Carmen thinks. So are you thinking hex bag, or maybe love potion. She did give me a beer one night when we were studying. It was opened already. Ah I should have paid attention to what she was sticking in it."

"Oh ease up boy; you're being a drama queen." Bobby chuckled and glanced back at the coffee maker. He sure as hell needed it with this conversation, with maybe a shot of something else included.

"Would you take this seriously?!" Dean barked angrily.

"I am. I am taking this as seriously as I need to." Bobby laughed and rubbed a hand through his hair. What was left of it. He was seriously thinning out and a little more quickly now that he had the boys. "Carmen is not a witch. What she is, is a girl who you care for. See I'm betting that you started this whole use them and leave them thing when you realized that you'd be gone too quickly to start anything. You couldn't get hurt, if you never had any special feelings. Right. Well now, you don't have to move on. And even after having sex you have the chance to know this girl, and she is something amazing. Something you cannot pass up."

Dean went suspiciously red.

"He hasn't yet." Sam spoke up slightly sleepily from the base of the stairs. His hair sat in a rats nest. He scuffled slowly to the fridge and poured himself a glass of orange juice. Before putting it up he held up the container in a silent offer. When neither bit on the offer Sam shrugged and put it back in. "He hasn't pressed the issue, and he doesn't want to unless it's special."

Dean sputtered the color deepening. He hadn't told anyone. Not even Sam? How did the brat know that? "How the hell do you even know that?"

Sam sleepily shrugged and plodded towards the coffee maker after it had made it known it was finished. Sam dragged down two mugs, one of them sporting a large chip. "I know you about as well as you know me. You really like her."

"Carmen is not a witch." Bobby pressed. "Okay so you got to know her first. It still doesn't prove anything."

"But I don't feel like that about any singular girl. So you think she does spell work, or it could be voodoo."

"No!" Sam and Bobby both blurted.

Sam joined the two at the table and handed Bobby the mug with the coffee dark, and Dean the mug with a little bit of cream and sugar. In fact, the exact amount that Dean wanted. "You don't have to be scared to have feelings for Carmen. She's really awesome!

Dean sputtered again. "I'm not- Pfft. I am not scared."

"I bet dad was scared when he first started really caring for mom." Sam gambled on bringing up his father. They still missed him, and the topic of their mother was definitely a depressing thought. "I mean, from everything you've told me, dad really loved her. Before everything they were happy, and she didn't voodoo him."

Dean was split. Yeah, they had loved each other. Dean recalled several outings where they held hands and stole sweet kisses. With those sweet thoughts however came with vivid memories of his father returning home from now what he realized were bars. His mother would push him upstairs and give him a toy to distract him but the fights were always loud. He got the idea then that his dad was doing something that his mother really didn't like. He always figured that love was bitter sweet.

So Sam really wasn't proving his point. But far be it from Dean to burst the kids bubble. "Yeah. They did really care for each other. But that happened when they were older."

"Dad was in his early twenties when he met mom." Sam scoffed.

"Yeah! So…" Dean didn't catch the kids drift.

"You're going to be twenty in the next three years." Sam deadpanned. "For someone who's good at math…"

"That is not the point. Point is, you got a great girl. Don't screw it up with your insecurities. Whatever you've been doing, keep it up champ." Bobby clapped a hand on Dean's shoulder. "Now, what are we having for breakfast?"

****

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Dean was a mother-hen. From before Sam could remember his older brother had been watching over him. Watching his every step. Not that Sam minded much. When swimming at one of the roach motels, Dean had allowed Sam to swim. If Dean hadn't been hovering then he probably would have drowned when he knocked his chin into the ladder after losing his footing. A fully dressed Dean had jumped in and dragged out a stunned and bleeding Sam. Anytime Sam forgot his coat Dean was always at the classroom door with a coat in hand be it his own or his big brothers.

Of course there were times it stunk as well. Bump a desk in school, and Dean fawned all over him. Who was it? Did he have to rip out their lungs? And the door. Back when they went from motel to motel Dean would always tell Sam never to answer the door. Only if it was him, not even if a pizza had been ordered and Dean was on the can.

With all of Dean's concern came rules. One of them being you wait at the school for him until his own let out. Go Nowhere. Sit your butt on the bench and wait it out. Sam listened, and week after week he would sit on that bench and read a book. A little later Sam figured it wouldn't hurt to go to the corner store across the street. Grab a snack and get back. Later he expanded to exploring the area around the school, and be back by the time Dean was finished.

On one such exploration Sam passed by a familiar sight. It was an old office building sporting the shadow of its old logo. He'd walked passed it before but today, something peaked his interest. The boarded up door had a single board that haphazardly hunt and an odd sound was coming from the building. After a quick glance in either direction and a better judgement from his internal Dean, he slipped his small frame into the barely there hole.

The situation was a little surreal. Everything had been cleared from the single story building save a single desk and a few odd and end objects lying around. There was even a torn up cat poster sporting the words Hang in There. The odd chirping continued as Sam went from office to office. Sam couldn't quite place the location of the chirping due to the echo. By the third office Sam heard it louder, and this time a smell was starting to become more evident. A rancid smell. He crept into the room where a desk sat in the middle of the office.

Sam stepped around the desk and it took a while for his eyes to adjust to the dark. It was a mama dog, with a pile of multicolored puppies. Sam crouched down carefully. The mama had her back to him. Her front containing the small litter in the nook the desk created. Carefully to not freak out a potential crazy mother Sam placed a gentle hand on the dog's body. His hand came away with her fur. She was dead. Probably had crept into the building had the puppies and at some point couldn't escape to get food. Poor thing starved to death.

As he went to check the lump of little puppies one snapped up its head and chirped at him. Another one raised its head, his eyes drooped and nearly appearing drugged. Sam gently prodded the other two puppies. They were gone as well. Just recently. Sam ignored the indignant little chirp and scooped out the darker pup of the two. It didn't take too much effort for him to realize it was a female. He put the quivering bundle of fluff away from the remains of his family in the first office. He shoved away dirt and dust from the corner of the room. Sam shrugged off his coat and put it on the ground to cushioning the space before he went back to scoop the little the female puppy who had weakly been trying to escape. Soon the brother joined her.

Sam tugged out a bottle of water and bag of jerky he'd purchased as a snack for himself. Now, let's get you something in your tummy." Sam tugged over a small card index holder and blew out the dust. He poured water into the bottom and put the object down in front of the puppies. The male was the first to figure it out. He sniffed around the makeshift bowl, then ducked his head down and lapped at the water. After the first he started to drink. The sister got curious and poked her head in too all too pleased to find the water. They only stopped once Sam broke off bits of the jerky and laid them around the coat. They all too contently started eating bits of the jerky. "There you go. I bet you like that. How long has it been since you've had something to eat?"

They finished whatever Sam had dropped and sniffed around the folds of the coat for more. When they couldn't find it they raised their eyes up to the boy. "I can't." Sam apologized. "It'll hurt your tummy more than help." He was neither a vet or a human doctor but he did know a thing or two about hunger. Rule number one was if you hadn't eaten in a while you didn't stuff your face. That only caused nausea and pain later. "I'll give you some more in a little while."

The male gave a bark.

"Hey, I know you're hungry. But you got to take it slow." Sam schooled the puppy. "Okay now let's get you some help." After an indignant yelp Sam had the two cocooned in his coat he zipped the bottle of water and jerky back into his backpack and shouldered it before picking up the puppies in his arms. "Don't worry. I'll see if Bobby will let me keep you."

Just as Sam had slipped back out the little hole he nearly dropped the puppies in surprise.

A police woman stood a few feet away her hands firm on her hips. A man stood with his arms crossed as he gave Sam a firm glare. "I told you I saw someone go in. It's one of those damn hooligans. You know the ones spray painting my place and causing damage."

The woman shooshed him and looked down at Sam. "And why were you inside there?"

Sam sputtered and held up the two dogs. "I uh- heard a strange sound, and found them." Sam didn't figure why she peered at the door. She couldn't see past the wooden barrier. "Their mama is dead, and these two were the only ones who survived."

Something I her eyes softened, but Sam continued.

"I'm sorry. I was going to tell someone, so that the puppies were taken care of properly. I just didn't want these two to stay in there."

"Hey, that's enough. I'll take a look inside in a second with you." She placed a hand on his shoulder, and looked over at the man. "Thank you Paul. I've got this covered."

The man named Paul walked away mumbling about hooligans.

"Forgive him, he's been getting harassed as of late. Now let's get this wood off the door and you can show me the mom." It didn't take too much effort. The door had been barricaded a long time and the wood wasn't doing the door justice. Together Sam and the police woman went to the third office and before she even saw the dead litter knew they were there by smell alone. "Looks like you were telling the truth kid."

"My names Sam." Sam said softly his eyes downcast.

"Well Sam. You did a good job. I don't think those puppies would have survived long if you hadn't found them." She prodded the kid out, figuring he'd seen enough of the dogs.

"What'll happen to these two?" He asked softly.

"Well, I suppose they'll have to go to the pound. Maybe they'll find a home. Puppies tend to get homes quicker." She consoled. Out in the street she paused by her deputy car. She held out her arms. "Here I can take them now, and you home."

"What if I take them." Sam looked up at her with such hopeful eyes.

She crouched down and glanced at the poked out heads of the puppies. She smiled and rubbed at their ears. "Can you take them?"

"I'm sure Bobby wouldn't mind." Sam said softly. "Fluffy died a little while ago, so he had been thinking about getting another guard dog."

"Bobby?" He tone sharpened. "Bobby Singer?"

Sam's eyes widened. "Do you not like Bobby?"

She sighed and collected herself. "It's not like that. I just- why are you staying with Bobby?"

"It's kinda a long story." Sam shifted the puppies in his arms. "Can I take them? If Bobby doesn't let me, I'll make sure they get a nice home."

"Look, you are not in trouble and neither is Singer. I just didn't realize he'd taken in a kid." She rubbed her forehead. Singer was a well-known drunk in the area. She'd picked him up once before. Sure it was after Karen's death, and she'd not heard too much from him afterwards, but she still wasn't sure about the whole situation. "I can give you a ride."

"No thank you. My brother is picking me up from-" Sam froze. "Oh no. Dean! What time is it? Ah crap, I gotta get back to my school otherwise my brother is going to kill me!"

"Get in the car. If you're trying to get to the middle school, it'll take you longer holding those dogs. Let me give you a ride at least there."

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Dean was near panic mode. The only thing keeping him calm was Carmen. She was trying to assure him that Sam was inside talking to a teacher. Yeah that was it. Sam the nerd he was, was busy talking with a teacher inside. Or at least he better be. Dean circled the school once, then twice, and after prodding parked in front of the school.

His eyes darted from the front of the school when the police car showed up and parked behind him. Crap, someone must have called the police when they saw him circling the school. He stuck his head out to ask what was wrong when the officer rather than head his way opened up the back and out stepped Sam. Rather than wearing his damn coat in this weather he had it in his arms.

Dean stalked out of his car and straight for the boy. "Where have you been? And what trouble did you get into. Seriously. When I say stay in front of the school I mean stay in front of the school."

"'M sorry Dean." Sam ducked his head down. "I went for a walk cuz you were gone so long and-" As if eager to join the conversation a head popped out of the bundle and licked at Sam's chin. Sam tried to tuck the head back in but failed.

"Why do you have a dog?" Dean demanded.

"Actually there are two." Sam uncovered the second one, who gave his brother appropriately timed sad eyes.

"Okay, why do you have two dogs?" Dean's tone didn't change.

"I was walking past a building and I heard them, Dean. Their mama had died, and so had their brothers and sisters and they were the only ones alive. I didn't want them to go back, and if they go to the pound then they could be euphemized." Sam spilled out the story in a singular breath. "Deputy Jody helped me with the names. I like Buddy for the boy, and she said the other one could be Chloe."

One of the dogs squirmed in Sam's hold and the puppy would have fallen if Jody, the police woman, didn't reach out and grab it by the scruff. The little dog licked at Jody's arms. "Ah, no. I know what you're doing there, and I am not warming up to you." The dog fixed Jody with puppy dog eyes and she frowned. "I'm not kidding Chloe."

Dean frowned. "I told you to stay at the school."

"I got bored Dean. I just went a block away. I get snacks across the street every now and again. I explore around, I always come back though." Sam glanced down sullenly. "I didn't mean to be gone so long I just go distracted."

"Yeah by dogs. How Sam of you." Dean growled.

Sam scowled and met his brother's gaze.

"Dean…" This time it was Carmen saying his name. Dean let the tension fall from his shoulders. She had slipped out of the car in the middle of the brother's argument and situated herself out until she saw that the two were at an impasse. Her hand slid across his shoulder as she passed him to stoop before Sam. "You scared him, Sam." She ruffled Sam's hair before rubbing the squirmy puppy that remained in the boy's arms. "We were both worried about you. You cannot go off by yourself without Deans permission. However I'm glad you are okay and that you helped the puppies." She scratched at Buddy's head. "They are adorable."

"Adorable is beyond the point." Dean sputtered.

Carmen sighed. "Look, Sam. If you go and get snacks you have to come right back to the bench okay." Sam nodded and she stopped Dean mid argument. "And will you give your brother a little bit of a leash and let him go from the school to the store?"

"Do you know what can happen in that short time?"

"Dean!"

"I mean really, a white van can pull up and he can get pushed inside."

"Oh really Dean?"

"Or some guy can claim he lost his puppy and Sam will get all emotional. I mean look he's all emotional about these."

Carmen slid her arms around Dean and glanced up at him through her lashes. "Dean, really. Your brother is tough. I think he can handle to the store and back."

The older brother's gaze darted from his girlfriend to his little brother, and finally he sighed. "Fine, to the store and back. But only because it take me a while to get over here. We have one more year… then we'll be in the same school and you won't have to wait."

Carmen pushed up on her toes and gave her boyfriend a kiss. She patted his chest before turning around and stooping to baby talk the puppy in Sam's arms. The second one, Chloe, was added when Jody cleared her throat and deposited the little dog back into the boy's arms.

Sam grinned wide and glanced up at the woman. "I think Chloe likes you."


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More settling down, and the boys are watched.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I missed a week. The holidays were busy and work and family filled. Basically a ton of stuff to do.

All in all he was pleasantly surprised. When a dirt smeared Sam Winchester had come home holding up two puppies and a goofy grin, he couldn't turn the kid down. Of course though, he couldn't take two dogs in. As much as he enjoyed the boys two of those were enough. Luckily enough Sam had an idea for a home for the younger of the two dogs. Jody Mills. She initially said no. But after a lethal double dose of puppy eyes she and her husband were up one puppy.

Bobby imagined at the time that the dog wouldn't be a good guard dog. Maybe something that Sam could love on and play with, but didn't expect much beyond that. After the first visit to the vet the woman had said that Buddy was a mutt. However, she'd thought on it and after a little gotten back with the small family. Near as she could figure, Buddy was a mix of Akita and German Shephard. Both were fantastic guard dogs. The mutt had seemed to grin up at Bobby at that moment. Almost like he was trying to tell Bobby that he was meant to be found at this specific time to play multiple needed roles.

Under Bobby and Sam's influence Buddy grew in health and size. As they trained him, they discovered that Buddy was highly intelligent. Dean had joked one nerd brain had found another. Buddy figured out quickly that potty inside the house was bad. After a few times showing the pup how to work the doggie door, Buddy used the door to go in and out.

Bobby later figured the dog was just not conveniently sent, but angelically. Dean was preoccupied with new friends and of course a new girlfriend. He didn't want the big brother to feel bad about that. This was what he wanted. Dean getting out and living his own life. Sam despite being happy stepping aside, couldn't help but feel a little abandoned. Of course the kid would loathe to admit it aloud, but Bobby had seen the signs. Now, with Buddy in the picture Sam had a regular companion during the day.

Dean and Carmen continued to date through the end of school. Dean constantly took his girlfriend out and would regularly tutor her. They both passed that year not only enough to go on to be juniors, but with flying colors. Although Dean did pass through a low B in English. Where math and anything with his hands were his strong suit, words and the comprehension of them was very minor compared to the other.

Sam had absolutely no problem passing with school. He made it through with near perfect grades all the way through. Without a doubt Sam would move on to the next level. Both Dean and Bobby were concerned that Sam's small frame would end up causing the kid trouble in the new year. He was a good deal shorter than the kids in his school, and despite the lack of teasing his first year there, they didn't want to stand the chance that the boy would be teased his 8th year. However with summer not only did Buddy sprout up pretty damn tall, so did Sam.

Where Sam had been shy and hesitant to eat when they had first started to live with Bobby, before the end of school and during the summer Sam put a huge dent in Bobby's pantry. No matter what went in the kid's stomach, Sam would always come back to the kitchen to find something else to eat. Evidence of his growth came in the form of ill-fitting clothes. First Sam figured that some of his jeans had shrunk. When he realized all of his jeans had shrunk, he'd been shy to bring it up; but Dean caught on.

He'd seen the jeans ending higher up on Sam's legs, and he'd noticed the kid's shaggy head was higher up than it normally was. Dean commented very jokingly on how Sam was going to be a gargantuan. The kid was very damn near getting there. He sprouted up to 5 feet by the end of the summer. A full six inches from where he had been. The kid felt awful when Bobby insisted on a whole new set of clothes for him. For the second time under a year Sam had Bobby driving back up to the same shop and trying on clothes. The kid apologized every time he tired on an article of clothing and Bobby tossed the article in the ever growing stack informing him that it wasn't a bother.

**< <<>>>**

On a crisp cool summer day, Bobby and Dean both had their heads tucked under the Impala's hood. John watched the pair from a safe distance through the fence proud at just how well Dean was taking care of the car. That 16th birthday John had handed over the keys to his loved car. While he cared for the dark beautiful car, he knew just how much more Dean had loved the machine. That had been Dean's home since the age of 4.

John wound his fingers through the chain link. He remembered the first time he'd allowed Dean to sit up front in the car. Mary had been adamant that whenever in his death trap Dean needed to be in a car seat in the back. Course after informing the little boy NOT to tell his mother he'd at in the front without the damn sissy car seat, the little boy instantly ran to his mother. John still shivered from the death glare he'd received from his wife.

Mary had always grumbled that the thing had been an illogical choice for them. A station wagon would be much more favorable for a man with a family. John very nearly did. With the announcement of Sam, John was prepared to trade in the car in favor of something more family oriented. Ironically it had been Mary who stopped him. That morning when he'd told his wife of his plans she'd stopped him, and informed him that he loved that stupid car and could keep it.

He watched as Dean stood up and wiped off oil from his hands with a towel. The boy threw a suspicious glance around before tucking his head back under. Dean had always been clever. He'd trained that boy well. Even if he never hunted again the boy would have a fantastic set of instincts to protect him. God, that boy made him so proud.

John turned away from the pair and scowled. What was he even doing here? He'd had a hunt about six miles away, and before the thought of checking up on his kids had even crossed his mind he'd found himself halfway to Singer's house. He'd fought himself in the cab of his truck. He should turn around now. The boys didn't need him. All he'd be doing was intruding on their content, normal lives. Somewhere he'd settled to checking on the boys. Just real quickly poke his head in see if they were alive and breathing, and leave. But now he'd stood in the single spot a good hour watching Bobby and his boy working on the engine.

He didn't know why he was still there…

A lie. He knew why he was there. He wasn't going to leave until Sam showed up. His youngest hadn't appeared in front of the house or near the garage. All he had to do was make sure that the kids were okay and he'd leave. Simple as that.

It was another hour. Another heart wrenching hour of watching his son and not being able to go to him, when the boy finally made an appearance. The screen door shifted and John threw a glance at it startled to see a dog dart out first, then a shaggy haired boy. Wait…

John squinted at the kid. That couldn't be Sam. Last he left the boy he was a runt. Sam still had a way to go, but damn he had gotten tall. John watched as Sam raced off in the direction of the garage the dog barking and keeping at the kid's heels. He watched Sam's long limbs stretch as the two ran trying to out speed each other. What had Bobby been feeding his son?

Guilt nipped at John's heart. He'd probably fed his son period. John had been all too happy to drown out his sorrows in alcohol and often times that meant he'd not concerned himself with his sons own wellbeing. Food being pretty damn high on that list. Dean always made sure that his brother had something to eat. Even fought with him on several occasions that the money left behind wasn't enough. If they were to both eat, then they needed more. John couldn't remember the end of those arguments. He didn't remember too much as far as the boys went. Alcohol tended to cloud the mind. However, he imagined it ended in nothing changing.

He'd been there two hours and already he'd seen enough. Dean was happy and laughing. Sam was happy as well, and it appeared that he had gotten the very thing he'd bothered John about his entire life. A damn dog. They both had decent clothes on. Sam actually fit in his.

To anyone watching this little family, you would assume that nothing was missing. That they were doing perfectly fine.

Despite his internal urge to leave John stayed plastered to the fence longer absorbing the images of his sons into his mind. He missed them. So much. John's hands tightened in the chain link. It only took him to lose them to realize just how much they mattered to him. If only he hadn't invested so much time to vengeance he'd be on the other side of that fence helping Dean with the car and laughing as Sam ran by trying to out run a mutt.

Maybe-

John paused.

Maybe, he could still be a part of that. Could he ever be? If he walked back through that fence right now, would his boys embrace him? Would they have missed him just as much as he missed them? John thought back to Bobby's cold hunter logic. No, the boys didn't need him. Sure he could spend a single day laughing and playing with his boys, but then the hunt and the vengeance would eat at his soul, and he'd have to leave them again.

Bobby's words came back though. He could come and go. Visit with his boys ask them how they were doing in school, eat dinner with them. Then when another hunt came he could pack up and leave until the next time. He didn't have to abandon them.

A dark part of John's mind spoke louder though. It would hurt them. Each and every time he would up and leave he could imagine Sam's sad eyes watching the truck go in a cloud of dust. No… this was better. Let the boys have a normal life without him. They didn't need him.

This time though his internal chant didn't quite convince him. As he walked towards his truck he tamped down the urge to turn around and hug both of his boys.

**< <<>>>**

Sam lay in his bed on his side, Buddy just at the foot snoring contently. Both idiots had exhausted themselves running the entire space of the lot. Dean straightened himself on his bed and waited a few minutes before drawing back his sheets and drawing himself into a sitting position. He stood up and rubbed the dogs head before exiting the room. Careful not to wake Sam he padded softly down the stairs and made the turn into the kitchen.

Sure enough Bobby sat in one of his chairs nursing a warm cup of coffee. A second, still steaming, sat on the spot just across from him. Bobby didn't offer a glance up as Dean joined him at the table. "I figured you wouldn't be able to sleep."

Dean shook his head and inspected the swirling gold in his dark coffee. "And obviously you couldn't either. How'd you know I'd be down here tonight?"

"How'd you know I would?" Bobby smirked. Dean didn't answer but Bobby continued anyways. "I figured you would. With your daddy showing up today like he did."

"So you noticed him too?" Dean said softly blowing on his coffee. "He must have been there for two hours."

"Four." Bobby corrected. "I wanted to keep it from you. Didn't want you running to him and spooking him off."

Dean laughed. "You make him sound like a horse."

Middle of working on his engine Dean had perked up and felt a pair of eyes on him. At first he was ready to pull out the pearl handled gun from his back. But the presence didn't seem to bother him. Then it occurred to him just who was watching him. He had the instant desire to turn around and find out where the old man was, but much like Bobby he stopped himself. John felt guilty about a lot of things, and the second he would acknowledge his presence his father would run again.

"I'd say he's more a stubborn mule."

"You've been keeping track of him? Trying to get the message out to him?" Dean asked.

"The message has been given out multiple times." Bobby scrubbed his face. "Your daddy before Christmas punched out Bill Harvelle, when he tried to get the moron to listen." Bobby stated quietly. "Apparently John is a mess without you. But I figured that if we gave your old man some time he might get curious and show back up to check on you two." Bobby unfolded a map, and Dean studied the lines. The most recent dot had been made in a town not too far away. "I figured it would be soon, seeing as he was hunting not too far away."

That had been the reason Bobby had been insisting that they went outside the last week. Dean knew there had been an ulterior motive. He'd wanted Sam and Dean to be out and active if and when their father came around to check in on them. "You think he'll come around? I mean actually knock on the door willingly."

"Of course. The only reason he sat there so long watching you two was because he missed you. Part of him wants to come back, but part of him feels guilty. Once he gets past that guilt he'll be okay. Much like yourself."

Dean froze mid sip and frowned. "Myself?"

Bobby chuckled. "Of course. The whole reason you fought me on the clothes before your first year, and you don't actually pay using the money I gave you to get groceries. All because you feel bad that Sam didn't get everything he deserved; from you."

Dean scowled. "You notice too many things… Are you sure you don't have lady parts?"

Bobby laughed. "Point being, John just has to get over everything. When he does, he'll be back and you'll be a family." Bobby smiled fondly at Dean. "I think he'll come around soon though. A buddy of mine was on the lookout for John. Apparently after leaving here, your daddy went to get a drink at a bar."

"What's new with that?" Dean rolled his eyes.

"He ordered a drink," Bobby started and stopped mid sip. "And he let it sit."

Dean absorbed that knowledge. Let it sit? Meaning he didn't drink it. His dad ordered a drink, and didn't drink it. The fact was too large and hard to absorb. "But- dad doesn't not drink. He'll drink anything you put in front of him."

"Exactly. Apparently he sat there for an hour and stared into it. Mark says that it was almost like he was having some internal debate. After an hour he shoved it away from him, paid, and left." Bobby fingered the #1 Dad mug, tracing over the lettering. "Now it's not a sure thing. Don't go making up his bed or nothing, but It's a step in the right direction for John."

Dean sat still. The knowledge that his father hadn't drunk the alcohol swimming in his head. Dean understood the thought process. Don't get too excited. It didn't mean that his father would be back through that door the next second, but he couldn't help but get excited. What he said had been correct. His father would drink anything put in front of him. Dean once had found some rubbing alcohol in their first aid kit missing while in a completely alcohol clean town only to have his father violently ill the following morning. It was a much needed vice to help John go from his day to day, one he would risk bodily injury for it. For him to pass up one drink wasn't a step, it was a freaking leap.

"Yeah, got it." The rest of his drink became forgotten. "I uh- I'm going back to bed. Thanks Bobby."

Bobby watched as Dean stiffly got up from his chair and shuffled back up the stairs to his room. He wasn't sure if he was glad or prepared to kick himself for giving the boy that large amount of hope. Yeah, John had made a huge step, first visiting then refusing a drink. But John even taking a step forward could have him stumbling back twice as many in a short while. He hoped to hell that the moron didn't hurt the boys more than he already had.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A day out for Sam goes awry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am a terrible person. But the last couple of weeks I have either been lazy, or busy. God, I hate being an adult.

They fell into a routine by the next school year. Wake up, and prepare breakfast together. Sam and Dean would clean up and go to school. Sam going to school first, then Dean would meet up with Carmen and they would hang out before their own school started. School would end and Sam would wait for Dean to finish, and they would go home. Usually Bobby was finished with work by the time the two boys were back themselves. He would usually ask about their day while Sam and Dean completed homework at the table (if there was any). Some days Carmen would come over and she and Dean would disappear somewhere for a little while before dinner.

November 2nd 1996 proved to be a such normal day. It was a Saturday and therefore there had been no school that morning. The three had sat around the table switching stories about their school and lives before Bobby and Dean had disappeared to the garage to work on Rufus's ancient truck. Bobby had given his friend a loaner. He was all too happy to let his dear friend drive off in a hideous, dented yellow bug. He imagined that he would get repercussions because of it.

Sam was determined not to spend the day inside, so he opted to explore the lot with Buddy. A little into the walk Sam noticed that Buddy started tensing up. His gait became a little more stiff as his head swiveled in all directions. Sam wondered if Buddy had been picking up on the atmosphere.

Despite Dean's best attempts to keep himself calm and pleasant, Sam couldn't help but pick up on the same sensitivity that Buddy was showing. He knew this day. This was the day that his mother died. Above his crib in an awful fire. Probably frightened and afraid. Before Dean had informed him just what had happened and on what day it had occurred, Sam had figured something awful had happened. His brother always became so quiet and thoughtful. His father wouldn't be seen for the entire day, and his drinking intensified the days leading up. It was very clear even beforehand that something terrible happened and they would try their best not to remember.

Sam wrung at his hands. He himself made sure to stay positive on this day. Despite wanting to curl up and sleep it through, he tried his best to lift his family's spirits on this day. Dean now being at Bobby's seemed to be fairing a little better on today.

Buddy growled.

"Hey what's wrong?" Sam crouched down to rub at his ears, but the dog took the opportunity to step in front of the boy.

Now Sam knew something was wrong. Buddy, much like Dean, had a strong protective streak. But he never put himself in front of the boy unless there was something he deemed a danger. There had been two times that he'd done it. Once with an opossum on the lot, and the second time when Rufus had made his appearance to drop off his car. Buddy didn't warm up to the man until Bobby moved to give his friend a warm greeting (as warm as they were to each other).

Sam peered forward and looked through the cars surrounding him. Suddenly with Buddy's protective nature he didn't feel all that safe. He tamped down the urge to call out to whatever or whoever was out there. If they had bad intention for him, they wouldn't be looking to casually chat. Sam startled when an old Ford Fiesta with a smashed front radio started playing. Sam recognized the beginning riffs of the guitar. It was Van freaking Halen. Running with the Devil. He'd heard this song more than enough when driving with Dean. His brother would never fail to head bang. Whatever this thing was it had an awful sense of humor.

The engine of an old station wagon, the latest car Bobby had towed in, rumbled on and Sam spun his head towards it. This defiantly was not right. "Come on Buddy. Let's-"

The boy didn't get out the last part of his retreat. The dog flew left and smacked into the VW Van that had been there since before Sam even started visiting the lot. Sam flew to the left, the station wagon's door opening and closing in time to have Sam fly into the car. Sam smacked his head hard against the glass window of the car and it took the boy a second to collect his wits. Despite the chill in the air outside the inside of the car was stifling hot from the suddenly overworking heating. Sam tugged on the handles of the door, and tried popping the locks on the windows. Neither budged. Not that he imagined it would. He pounded his fist down on the lever to force it to rotate and bring the window down. Just like the locks it didn't budge. Something wanted him in the car; trapped.

Sam shifted to the passenger side and pushed his face against the window. Buddy lay on his side so still. His own plight dropped from his mind. Why wasn't Buddy moving? Buddy had to be okay.

His own trouble came back to mind when there was a loud hissing. The heat turned off. At first Sam thought whatever was attacking was finally backing off, but his heart dropped into his stomach. The car was on fire. Smoke started streaming around the hood of the car, a few minutes later it started filtering through the AC vents.

This was not good.

****

<<<>>>

****

**  
**

Bobby and Dean had slipped into the kitchen. Sam wasn't inside, but Dean had seen his little brother walk off towards the maze of cars. He wasn't too concerned. What trouble could Sam get into on the lot? Dean smirked at the thought but couldn't help but recall all the other times Sam was supposed to be okay and in a perfectly normal setting and wasn't safe. Once even on Bobby's lot. Dean shook his head. Nope. He was not about to freak himself out for no reason.

Ignoring his needless worry, Dean reached up and grabbed a chipped glass from the cabinet and poured himself some water from the tap.

The phone started chirping loudly and Bobby glanced casually at the personal line. "Get me one too." He called out before resigning himself to pick the phone up off the cradle.

Dean spun around and reached to grab a glass.

"Singer." Bobby offered his casual greeting and planted the phone between his face and his shoulder. "Whoa- whoa- calm down. Who is this?"

Dean spun the knob on the faucet but quickly closed it at the urgent tone Bobby took.

"What do you mean? What's wrong?" Bobby blurted, slight irritation reading on his face. "Sam's here at the lot… he's fine."

"Sam?" Dean jerked up an eyebrow.

"Seriously who is- Missouri?" Bobby's irritated expression turned to something akin to panic. "What do you mean Sam's in trouble? Do you know where?"

Dean's own panic notched up. How would someone on the phone know he was in trouble unless he wasn't on the lot. "What's wrong Bobby? Where's Sam?" Dean burst.

Bobby held up a hand. "One person panicking at a time boy." He listened firmly to the other line and after a few minutes the phone was placed back on the cradle. Bobby glanced over at Dean and pointed towards a drawer in the corner of the kitchen. "Get the flask from the drawer." Bobby ducked down and grabbed a gun from among his pots and pans. Dean recognized it as the gun containing the iron rounds. He waited for Dean to grab up the flask then was pushing his way out of the back door and into the lot. "Come on, Dean!"

Even without the call Dean would have followed. Bobby's worry was quick to absorb. "What's going on Bobby? Who was that? What's going on?"

"We need to get to that stupid station wagon." Bobby burst out, not slowing down. "Missouri says your brother found himself in a bit of trouble. Demon."

"Is it-?"

"His teacher? I don't know?" He slowed down in time to bang a hand down onto the trunk of an old Corolla and it popped up exposing weapons and lengthily chains and cuffs. Sam and Dean had never found that when they had been exploring. Bobby jerked up a set of shackles and raced off into the maze and made a quick right. Already they could sense the thickness of the smoke in the air.

First thing they saw was Buddy. Poor thing was lying on his side bits of blood clumping his fur, but his chest rising and falling as he breathed. A plume of smoke had them turn their head towards the old station wagon. Dean's breath left him at one. Sam was banging on the passenger window his eyes desperately glued to his older brother coughing and choking on the thick smoke already in the cab and a cloud of smoke rising from the closed hood of the car.

Dean collected himself. No, not today, not ever. He was not going to lose his brother to fire, today of all days. "Bobby!"

"I see!" Bobby burst out. They ran quickly towards the car.

Despite knowing the outcome Bobby first tested the handle on the door. Of course it didn't budge. Dean slammed the handle of his gun against the window in a feeble attempt to crack the glass. Every attack they had towards the car's shell came up with failed attempts.

"I can't get it open!" Sam burst out from inside the car, but through the windows it sounded muffled. "Dean!"

"SAMMY!" Dean slammed the handle of the gun against the window a final time before desperately turning towards Bobby. The demon. If It was a demon causing the trouble, then he knew what they had to do. "We have to find him. He's somewhere around here, we get him-"

"The car can open." Bobby finished breathless. "Where-" The breath whooshed from the older man's throat as he was lifted and tossed into the same VW van Buddy had hit. Bobby hit the ground stunned.

Dean ducked down out of sight once Bobby had been flung away. "Dammit." Dean gripped the flask firmly, the cap loosened. Where was the son of a bitch? "Bobby?" Dean didn't look in the direction but he called out knowing the man would hear him.

"Fine!" He sounded a little breathless. But otherwise okay. "I'm fine."

Dean jerked his head again as there was a painful shout. He didn't have too much time to focus on it as Sam, who must have been tugging uselessly on the door handle, had the door opened suddenly spilling out more smoke through the door. Sam tumbled from the car coughing and choking. He figured the demon had been distracted. But how? Bobby was still fighting to get vertical and he hadn't the chance to go after him yet. Whatever. That was not his main concern. Sam's safety sat higher up on the list. Dean stood back up wrapped his arms firmly around his little brother sprawled on the ground, and grunted as he dragged them both away from the burning car.

"Dee!" Sam burst out loudly and breathlessly.

"Hey, you're okay." Dean groaned as he dragged his much heavier brother back. "I got you, Sam!"

"'Uddee." Sam choked out.

"We'll check on your mutt in a little." Dean growled depositing his little brother safely behind another car carcass. "You stay here."

Sam fought to push up but ducked his head down as he burst into another coughing fit.

Dean growled again and firmly pushed his little brother down. "No, you need to freaking stay! I need to-"

"Nooo- he's here-" Sam coughed his throat aching. "It's-"

"Is it your teacher? Mr. Robinson?" Dean demanded.

Sam continued to cough, but he managed to shake his head. "It's-"

"Sam!"

Dean's head jerked. He glanced down in surprise down at Sam. Sam managed a small grin before ducking his head down and coughing some more. Dean patted his little brother before standing up and glancing above the car's roof. It couldn't be. But could it?

"Dean! Sam!" A second later his father stumbled into sight favoring his left leg as he dragged himself forward towards the burning car. He threw his hands up protectively as he peered in through the opened door. "Sam!"

"Dad?" Dean, despite not inhaling as much smoke as Sam, felt his throat close and his voice grow scratchy. "What are- What are you doing here?"

John stumbled towards his boys and passed up Bobby who was getting to his knees. He circled the car so sun bleached and ancient they couldn't determine what it used to be. He went to his knees before Sam putting his boys face in his hands and smoothing back the soot covered hair. "Hey, you okay Sammy?" He planted a kiss on the boy's forehead. "I thought- I thought I wouldn't get to you in time. I thought-" his forehead thumped down on Sam's. "Oh thank God you're okay."

Dean watched the exchange stunned. His heart stuttered when his father finally looked up at him. "Dean." He fumbled his hand up and gripped his eldest boys hand. "I couldn't find you in the lot as I came through, I should have looked but-" John ducked his head down. "Sam was in the car. Fire- I almost-"

The boy got it. They had lost their mother to fire this very day, it would have been devastating to have lost Sam the very same way. "Yeah, he's okay. We're okay." Dean went down to his own knees and embraced his father. "God, I missed you."

John's eyes widened, but slowly closed, tears leaking from the edges and crawling down. "I missed you too."

"I missed you too you, idjit. Where's the demon?"

All three Winchesters jerked their heads up at the sound of Bobby's voice. John threw the man a cautious glance. "I uh, cuffed him and knocked him out. He's on one of your cars." John stood up. "I was going to question him. If you help me get him to my truck-"

"Nope. We can question him. Nobody goes after Sam, and gets away with it." Bobby extended a hand down to John. To anyone else it would appear to be a simple gesture. To the boys it was an apology and an offer to stay. They waited with held breaths until John finally allowed a weak smile and took the hand. Bobby tugged up their old man and they stood face to face until Bobby clapped the man on the back. "Can you help me get him in? I've uh- I've got a devil's trap in my basement."

"I'll get Sammy inside. You still got that oxygen tank?" Dean asked cupping Sam's shoulder in his hand.

"Yeah, upstairs closet." Bobby put a hand to his chest and took a deep breath.

Sam pushed himself up and put a hand to the back of his head. He griped as Dean swiped away the hand and himself started rooting around the back of his brother's head before finding a large knot at the back of his ear. Dean prodded Sam's eye lids checking for his little brother's reactions.

"The fire?" Sam wheezed, no longer fighting his brother's nurturing.

"There is a hose out here somewhere. Had it hooked up for- emergencies. I'm sure it'll extend far enough so we can extinguish it.

All heads turned as the sound of sirens sounded in the distance. "Or, we could let the fire department do that."

"Change in plans?" John shrugged. "Find a trunk. We'll draw a circle on the inside and leave him in there until the PD leave."

"Won't he smoke out?" Dean questioned.

John shook his head giving his boys a comforting glance. "I've got the right spells engraved on the cuffs. He's stuck in the person, and powerless. We'll figure out what the demon wanted. He won't get away with anything." There was no verbal apology but, the remorse was clear as John cleared his throat and wiped away at suspicious moisture. "I uh, will see you in the kitchen."

****

<<<>>>

****

**  
**

Jody took their report. Sam had been playing in the lot and while in the car it had caught fire. Bobby blamed himself. He'd taken in the new car and hadn't tested one thinga-magig and when Sam messed with the dials it had activated a whatever whach-you-macallit to catch on fire. At least that's the understanding Jody got. Not able to speak car, she just nodded and took down whatever statement Bobby gave. She agreed though that Sam was not the cause of the fire. Even took to talking to Sam about how well Chloe was doing while Sam took steady breaths with the oxygen mask. Sam was too sweet a kid for her to figure that he'd done it on purpose.

Once the fire out, report taken, and first aid given to both Sam and their father (despite the insistence that they were fine from the both) the police car and fire engine left the home. Finally, they were left alone. After wrestling a very awake and squirming demon inside the basement, Bobby conveniently had to go take care of Buddy, leaving the Winchesters alone in the kitchen. Sam seemed very uneager for bed, and stayed down despite his drooping eye lids.

John was the first to speak. He swirled a spoon inside his cup of coffee and stared into the dark liquid. "So- uh. How's school been?"

Sam perked up. He spilled about everything Spanish three, then he had started French the beginning of the school year. He was in AP everything and passing, and Principal Sterling had insisting that he joined some academic team. Sam of course was refusing he didn't want that. He then spilled about Dean's girlfriend. Dean turned red. His father wanted to know everything about her, and Dean told him everything. She was awesome, smelled nice, wasn't a bad kisser, and intelligent. John also asked how Dean was doing in school. Dean had shrugged, he was doing okay.

Sam had snorted. Dean wasn't just doing fine; he was doing fantastic in school. Sometime in the conversation John and Dean realized that Sam wasn't adding to the discussion and saw that the kid had finally given into the sleep that threatened to overtake him.

John jerked his head towards Sam. "How's he really doing?"

"Okay." Dean glanced down at Sam. "We've been getting separate lives, and he wasn't okay with that." Dean paused. He'd been so love struck the first week he hadn't even realized he hadn't spent hardly any time home. Of course he realized he missed Sam as well and remedied that. "Even if he said he was. If it hadn't been for the mutt, then I don't think Sam would be as okay. He's still a pain in the ass and we're fine, but he's still holding in a lot of that in. Then there was his teacher."

"His teacher?" John questioned.

"Uh yeah- his teacher was possessed. Kept trying to get answers from him about well- all of us. He's not here anymore. He uh- killed his wife and ran away. Bobby has a circle of hunters looking for him, or his body now. Sam didn't take that very well." Dean glanced down at his hands.

John glanced at Sam. "The demon we brought in, is it him?"

"If it is, he's not wearing the same- suit." Dean scowled and rubbed at Sam's soot covered head. "He should have showered and gone to bed."

"He was worried I'd run again." John said quietly.

Dean didn't correct his dad. "Will you?"

"No. I'm not running now. Not unless-"

"Don't." Dean blurted loudly. "We don't want you to. I mean you probably still need to hunt, but we still want you around whenever you can. Especially holidays. We need you then for sure."

John managed a shaky smile. "I'll see if my calendar is clear. Have my secretary cancel a few meetings." He scrubbed a shaking hand through his shadow. He could go for a drink. Today had been a major stresser. No. He didn't need it. He fought the urge to check Bobby's fridge. He had good days and bad days, but he was trying his best to not rely on the stuff to help him through his day. Besides he had what he wanted. His two boys safe. Alcohol couldn't beat that.

**Author's Note:**

> I am my own worst enemy when I write. I post after reading a dozen times and still find mistakes. So you find something that doesn't connect, something spelled wrong- let me know.


End file.
